Coming Home
by silencewillfallinlove
Summary: I'm thinking about my interview with Caesar, and about how even though every single person in the country was watching me, I was thinking about Katniss, and only about Katniss, so when Caesar asked me if I had someone waiting at home, I responded, "I hope so."
1. Chapter 1

Today is the day I come home to her.

Or at least that's what I tell myself.

To her, today is the day I come home.

To her, I am nothing special.

To her, I am just a rich merchant boy with the misfortune to be reaped. To her, I am something to be pitied. To her, I am nobody.

To me, she is everything. She is the reason I didn't give up during the Games. She is the reason I didn't hand myself over to be slaughtered. The thought of seeing her again, even just from a distance, stolen glances when she isn't looking, makes me feel as if I can be human again. _Feel_ things. Besides misery and remorse, that is.

Today I am coming home from the Games.

Today I am coming home to Katniss Everdeen.

...

Today Peeta Mellark is coming home.

I wonder what he is thinking about.

I wonder if he is thinking about _me_.

I shake the thought from my mind. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, I think to myself. I have no time for petty emotions when I have to hunt and greet Peeta on the welcome home train with the rest of the district.

On the day of the reaping, when Peeta was called, my heart broke. Not in the typical, teenage heartbreak kind of way, it broke because I knew I was never going to thank him for his kindness. Which brought me to go run and get in line to see him before he left for the Capitol, but I chickened out when I realized that he probably doesn't even know me, probably doesn't remember the girl he threw burnt bread to four years ago. It would be weird, right?

Well ever since then, I haven't been able to get Peeta out of my mind. I think of _the_ dandelion, and a fresh wave of guilt overtakes me. I think about his curly blonde hair, and what it would feel like to have my hands in it. I mentally slap myself for that one. But I still keep thinking about him. I watch the Games every night, practically glued to the screen, screaming for Peeta when I know a trap is coming, screaming at him to get food, get water, get safe.

Peeta Mellark is probably going to go for one of the beautiful merchant girls now, they're all fawning over him anyways. Buying stupid hair bows to put in their stupid blonde hair when his stupid train gets back from the stupid Capitol.

This whole Victor-coming-home-lets-get-dressed-up-and-act-dumb act that these merchant girls put on is ridiculous. It's not like they're exactly fresh meat. They've known each other since they were little kids. Peeta was always well liked among them, but now he is being coined as some sort of God.

It's really annoying.

...

The train starts to slow down, and simultaneously, my heart beats starts to speed up.

In a few minutes, I will see _her_.

I wonder what she thinks of it. She probably thinks it's stupid. She undoubtedly thinks it's stupid.

And that's why I love her.

When the wheels come screeching to a stop, I get up and cautiously make my way to the door. An attendant opens it for me, and I take a step into the blinding light.

My eyes start to adjust, and I can make out vague outlines and shapes, but I can't find the beautiful girl with the long braid. I can see people talking, not really paying attention to the Victor coming home, most people are just here because it's required. I wonder how many people would show up if it wasn't.

I see my family and make my way over to them. Rye pats me on the back, and my dad pulls me into a bear hug. My mother gives me a once-over and goes back to ignoring me.

Next I greet my friends, most of which give me a pat on the back or a hug, but I tune them out because that's when I spot _her_. She's wearing her normal hunting clothes and is holding a conversation with Gale. Her best friend. The one that everyone can plainly see is in love with her except her apparently. He gives her a friendly punch on the arm which she responds to by shoving him back. A pang of jealousy hits me, I wish she touched _me_.

She catches me staring at her and gives me a small smile, before continuing her conversation with Gale. Well, eye contact is a step up from not noticing your existence, right?

...

I am having a conversation with Gale about the deer we caught earlier, when the train arrives. Peeta steps out and hugs his family and his friends. I think he might give a slight glance in my general direction, so I give a small smile and try to go back to my conversation with Gale. Apparently my acting skills aren't up to par with what they are in my head, because Gale tells me to stop with the googly eyes.

"I am _not _eyeing him!" I hiss back at Gale, shoving him back.

Gale puts his hand's up in mock defeat and I slowly try to maneuver the conversation back to the deer unsuccessfully.

"Just go and say congratulations to him or something already, Catnip."

Gale knows me better than anyone, and he is the only one that knows about the bread, and my ties with Peeta Mellark, and of course he assumes my reasons to go see him are completely platonic, which they are, right? I resolutely decide that I in fact will not be going to see Peeta Mellark today.

"Well what am I supposed to say? Welcome home Peeta, good job for not dying."

I know that the best way to get Gale on a different topic is to use humor, so that it what I do. Unfortunately, Gale knows that I know this and he decides to play on it.

"Oh, definitely," Says Gale with a coy smile, "Peeta! Hey, Peeta!"

"Shut up Gale. Shut up. Shut up!"

But it's too late, Peeta has heard Gale's yell for him and turns around. Gale beckons him over, and I struggle to cover his mouth, to stop him from making me say welcome home, from making me say thank you. Unfortunately, Gale's about a foot taller and eighty pounds heavier than me, so making him stop is a lot more difficult than it sounds.

Peeta starts walking towards us, looking perplexed. Maybe it's due to the fact that, oh, I don't know, neither of us have _ever_ had a conversation with each other in our entire lives.

_Shit._

_..._

"Peeta! Hey Peeta!"

I hear a yell for my name behind me, and turn around. My name is coming out of Hawthorne's mouth, while Katniss jumps up and tries to cover his mouth. If I wasn't so confused, it would be comical. Tiny Katniss trying to sate giant Gale. Of course, she could probably do it given she had more time.

"Hi Peeta, well umm, welcome home, and err, congratulations on…not dying," The words fumble from her mouth and she looks utterly enraged at Gale for making her say this. Part of me hates myself for making her so uncomfortable, part of me is elated that she knows my name and is talking to me. Hell, she could have told me that she has an obsession with fried monkey and I would have been elated.

"Hi, Katniss. Umm, thanks. I guess…"

Smooth Peeta, real smooth. Now she's just going to think you're a cocky bastard. Way to go, Mellark.

"Thank you."

"What?" I have no idea what she means. Thank you? For what?

She turns around and walks away from me.

And that's when I make my decision. Women are crazy.

...

He knows my name. He knows my name. He knows my name.

I repeat this to myself, a sort of mantra, over the next few hours. I even manage to make it past the crippling sense of embarrassment over my choice of words. He probably thinks I'm crazy. He probably thinks _Katniss Everdeen _is crazy.

I realized about ten seconds too late that he wouldn't know what I was thanking him for. As I turned and walked away, I realized that he probably doesn't even remember all those years ago, he probably doesn't remember the poor seam girl he gave a loaf of bread to.

But I wanted to thank him for more than that now.

Thank you for the bread, I wanted to say.

Thank you for the hope, I wanted to say.

Thank you for the kindness, I wanted to say.

Thank you for coming home, I wanted to say.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm thinking about my interview with Caesar, and about how even though every single person in the country was watching me, I was thinking about Katniss. What would Katniss think? Should I be funny, she likes funny right? Should I play cocky for her? Humble? Kind? Love struck?

So when Caesar asks me if I have someone waiting at home, I respond, "I hope so."

That was mistake number one.

What I thought would just be lost in footage is now on every girl's mind in the entirety of District 12. Everywhere I go, all I see is girls with ribbons in their hair waving and winking at me. Except Katniss.

The first time I see her, she is in my family's bakery trading squirrel for some bread. I have always loved them, not so much for the flavor, but for the fact that the girl I have been in love with my whole life was the one who brought this squirrel. I sort of revered in it.

When I see her in the front of the shop, I run out to greet her. I can only hope that I look decent right now, covered in flower and an apron. She looks as gorgeous as ever in her hunting gear with her signature braid down her back.

"Hi, Katniss."

"Oh hey, Peeta. I uh…wanted to talk to you about something. Well, about last week when I ran off on you…I uhh…"

I can clearly see that she is lost and does not want to be here apologizing, which is something I know she hates because it involves swallowing her pride.

"It's fine," I say with a smile.

"Huh? Oh, uh…I was just going to explain why I ran off…not…uhh…you know…"

Guess who feels like the biggest idiot in the world. The biggest, cockiest, stupidest, most revolting idiot in the world. I give her a sheepish smile which she returns and continues on with her explanation.

"The bread. You remember? Please say you remember…"

Of course I remember. I remember everything from that day in perfect detail. In fact, I wear those scars from my mother as a sort of token of pride, knowing I defended and helped the girl I love. Or, wore, I guess. The Capitol took those from me, too.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. Of course I remember."

"Well, I never got a chance to thank you properly for it. You saved my life Peeta. You…you gave me hope. You are the reason I'm still alive today, and…and…I never thought I would get a chance to tell you thank you, but I did, and I blew it—"

She's started rambling now and we can both clearly see it.

"—And I was going to say thank you before you left for the Games but I chickened out and I didn't know if I ever would and I needed to and I needed you to come home Peeta and—"

...

I go out hunting this morning with a clear and definite mission on my mind. If I hunt down a few squirrels and bring them to the Mellark's, I could have an excuse to talk to Peeta, to _see _Peeta, to explain to him why I ran off yesterday.

Of course, there are so many flaws in my plan. Peeta might not be home, he might not be working the bakery, he might not be the one working the front of the bakery, I might chicken out and not explain to him why I ran off…

Two hours and a pouch full of squirrels later, I am in front of Mellark's bakery, hoping against hope that Peeta is in there. I open the door and to my extreme luck, he comes running in looking, well…sexy.

His hair is messy and his face has flour on it, his apron is dirty and he looks tired, but he still manages to look so attractive I find myself stumbling to speak. Luckily, he beats me to it.

"Hi, Katniss."

""Oh hey, Peeta. I uh…wanted to talk to you about something. Well, about last week when I ran off on you…I uhh…" I'm completely screwing up my speech with all the hesitation and ineloquence.

"It's fine," Says Peeta with a broad smile.

What? I was going to explain what I failed to yesterday…and he thinks I'm….apologizing. It's then that I realize that that is what I should probably be doing, if I was a normal person that was not blatantly rude and socially awkward.

"Huh? Oh, uh…I was just going to explain why I ran off…not…you know…" Way to go Katniss. Now I seem really rude and self-aggrandizing. I should've just gone with an I'm sorry and an explanation. Luckily Peeta seems just as embarrassed and we pass the moment with simple sheepish smiles.

"The bread. You remember? Please say you remember…" Great. Now I have to plead for him to respond to me. Wonderful.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. Of course I remember."

Thank. God.

"Well, I never got a chance to thank you properly for it. You saved my life Peeta. You…you gave me hope. You are the reason I'm still alive today, and…and…I never thought I would get a chance to tell you thank you, but I did, and I blew it—"

I'm clearly rambling now but I can't seem to stop.

"—And I was going to say thank you before you left for the Games but I chickened out and I didn't know if I ever would and I needed to and I needed you to come home Peeta and," I take a deep breath, "I needed you to come home to me."

"I needed you to come home to me."

Those words have not stopped playing in my head for the past week nonstop. As soon as Katniss said them, she ran out, not even bothering to grab her bread and game bag. However, Katniss being Katniss, sent Prim to go collect them not two hours later.

What did she mean by that? _I needed you to come home to me. _It could be completely platonic, meaning that she needed me to come home so she could say thank you, or, _or, _it could mean what I desperately want it to mean.

I don't think I've slept a wink.


	3. Chapter 3

_Way to be subtle_, I think to myself. _He probably thinks you're just another one of his adoring fans that never gave him the time of day before he became a victor._

I try to convince my mind to stop torturing itself and move on, but it does not obey me. My mind has been stuck on the conversation I had with Peeta for the last week. Nonstop.

I've been trying to avoid him, too. As much as my heart is telling me to see him, my mind is telling my heart to shut the hell up already. The bad part is, my heart is winning.

Even Gale has noticed. While we were hunting in the woods earlier today, I missed just about every single opportunity to shoot a squirrel. Shooting a squirrel meant bringing a squirrel to the house of the Mellark's, which is not something I am looking forward to doing.

"Catnip? You there?" Asks a somewhat annoyed Gale.

"Huh? What? Oh, yeah, sorry," I respond with such elegance.

"Catnip, what's up? You've been unfocused all day, and you haven't shot a single squirrel."

"Nothing," I lie.

Badly.

"Catnip, just tell me what it is," Says Gale with a resigned sigh.

I shake my head profusely.

"I'm not going to tell you what it is, because 'it' is nothing. I'm just tired, okay Gale, so just leave me alone," I respond. I immediately feel guilty for snapping at him, but Gale knows me, and he knows I want to apologize for it.

The next few hours go by, with me grudgingly hunting down two squirrels and Gale with a grand total of five.

"Looks like someone needs some brushing up on their archery, huh Catnip?" Gale says with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Shut up, Gale." I'm still in a pretty bad mood from earlier today.

Or maybe I'm just in a perpetually bad mood.

I am coerced into bringing the squirrels to the Mellark's, because Gale has to go start his shift in the mines. I unhappily stuff the squirrels in my game bag and head over to the Mellark's bakery.

* * *

I am cleaning up the bakery when what a customer walks in. I turn around to greet them and end up freezing mid-turn. _Katniss._

She looks exceedingly uncomfortable right now, so I try to ease the tension and pretend like nothing happened last week. It's not like every fiber of my being is begging me to ask her what she meant or anything.

"Hey, Katniss."

"Peeta." She is acting extremely embarrassed by herself right now. _What would she have to be embarrassed for?_

"So, what brings you to the bakery?"

She holds up her game bag in response and pulls out two squirrels. Part of me hoped that she came to see me, but I knew that part of me was just being naïve.

I grab a loaf of bread and hand it to her. She thanks me and starts to walk out of the store, but at the last second she turns around and pulls another squirrel out of her game bag.

"Could I get an..err…a cheese bun?" She asks, a sheepish expression on her face.

As I turn around to get her a cheese bun, she starts talking again.

"Peeta, look, about last week, what I just meant was that, well, you see—" She's stalling and she's not very good at it. I know how much she hates having to be the one talking, and how much she hates being the one to admit things, and how much she probably hates this situation she's dug herself into right now. I am planning on cutting her off, telling her that it's fine, but something she says grabs my attention.

"Do you remember what you said in your interview with Caesar Flickerman?"

* * *

"So, what brings you to the bakery?"

I hold up my game bag, hoping that will suffice as an answer. I can feel my cheeks burning, I can feel the humiliation and I'm glad that Peeta is kind enough not to mention anything about last week.

When Peeta hands me the loaf of bread, I come to the realization that I don't want to leave. I want to stay with Peeta and talk to Peeta and be with Peeta. I want to stall leaving for as long as I can manage.

I turn around and ask him (Not so eloquently) for a cheese bun. They're my favorite food, and I haven't had one in years.

"Peeta, look, about last week, what I just meant was that, well, you see—" I have no idea where that came from. I've been saying and doing a lot of stupid things lately, haven't I?

"Do you remember your interview with Caesar Flickerman?"

Oh, I'm sure he forgot. You know, he was just going to his probable death in the arena, and I just reminded him of it.

_Good thinking_, Katniss.

* * *

_Where is this going?_ I ask myself.

I play through the interview in my head. I started by talking about types of bread and how they relate to tributes, which I'm sure Katniss zoned out for, I then proceeded on to talk about Capitol showers and how they smelled like roses, and then, and then, I talked about _her_. Well, no one knows I talked about her except for me.

Why would she be asking me about the interview?

Maybe she's asking me who I was talking about. She's probably just going to make some sarcastic comment on how I still smell like roses and walk away. I can't take it, and I just don't know what to do.

I so badly want to just lean forward and kiss her, the desire takes over every part of my being, and it takes the most restraint I have ever had to use to stop myself.

"Remember when he asked you if you had someone to come home to?"

Of course I remember. I remember thinking of her, everything about her, everything that was so perfect to me. I remember wondering, hoping, knowing that she was watching, and I remember hoping against hope that she felt the same way.

"Katniss?"

"Yeah?" she responds, hesitantly.

"I wanted to come home to you."


	4. Chapter 4

My mind is moving at a thousand miles per hour.

_I wanted to come home to you. _I wanted to come home to _you. _

It feels like I have been standing in front of Peeta for hours, but in reality he told me not ten seconds ago.

Why me? I'm nothing special. I'm just a poor girl from the seam, I am plain looking, I am abrasive. He is kind, he is brave, he is loving, he is a _Victor_, and hell, he is hot.

I'm completely at a loss of how to respond when his voice cuts through the silence.

"Katniss?"

I should probably respond, shouldn't I?

"Why?" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, "Why me?"

Peeta looks at me as if I'm crazy, as if the reason behind his affection should be blatantly obvious. I stand there trying to sort out my emotions.

"You have no idea. The effect you can have."

When my father died, I decided that I had no need for love. It always led to heartbreak. I could never afford to become the shell of a person that my mother was, Prim needed me. I vowed that I would never fall in love.

Today, I broke that promise.

Today, I realized that I am in love.

Today, I realized that I am in love with a Victor.

Today I realized that I am in love with Peeta Mellark.

…

My heart is pounding and I can feel it leap in hopefulness each time I steal a glance at Katniss. She has stood in silence for far too long now, and I can't stand it, I can't.

"Katniss?"

"Why?" She says slowly, carefully, "Why me?"

Why her? Why her? That shouldn't even be a question! She's perfect, she's beautiful, she's strong, she's full of fire, and, hopefully, she's mine.

"You have no idea," I say, "The effect you can have."

She struggles with her emotions before coming to a resolute conclusion and looking at me in the eye. I think I might faint.

Two months ago, the idea of actually approaching Katniss Everdeen seemed unthinkable, yet here I am now confessing my love to her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Of course. She doesn't see it. She doesn't see how many boys have their eyes on her, she doesn't see that her best friend Gale loves her, she didn't see that I was irrevocably in love with her, she doesn't notice.

"Katniss," I take a deep breath, getting myself ready for telling my story to her, "do you remember when we were little, the first day of school? You had on a red plaid dress and your hair…it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up. He told me 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother but she ran off with a coal miner.' And I said 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he told me that when he sings, even the birds stop to listen."

I realize that my story will take an extremely time to tell, and if memory serves, Katniss is not an extremely patient person. I glance at her for the first time since I began my story, and she looks transfixed, immersed in a memory I have no business of interrupting. Suddenly, her voice pipes up and she seems tohave come back from her memory.

"How do you remember that?"

"That was the day I fell in love with you, Katniss" I whisper, my eyes focused on some uncertain point in the distance, "I remember everything about that day."

She glances down, a small amount of blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"That day in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the Valley Song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent."

I glance at Katniss to judge her reaction, only to see tears springing in her eyes.

"Katniss? Katniss? What's wrong? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I'm not sure what I'm apologizing for, but knowing that something I said brought tears to her eyes nearly rips me apart.

"It's not you, Peeta, it's not, really. It's just…my father taught me that song, and, and, on the day he died, he sang it to me, while we walked to school. We sang it together, him and me. But we hadn't finished by the time we got to school, so he promised that he would pick me up and we would finish on the way home, because that song was my favorite song, and I always sang it. We always sang it. I was waiting the whole day for him to come get me, only he never did. He never came for me. We never finished the song."

Her voice cracks on the last sentence and I want nothing more than to fight off all her fears and worries for her, but I know I can't. With every word from her mouth, my heart was breaking all the more.

"Oh, Katniss," I whisper, "I'm so sorry."

She walks closer to me and envelops me in a small, but powerful hug. Her head is nestled against my chest, and she starts to sob. I hug her back, fiercely, protectively, wanting nothing more than to never let go.

"No, I'm sorry. You must think I'm weak now, weak and emotional."

"I don't think your weak. Being emotional doesn't make you weak Katniss, it makes you human."

She looks up at me with red rimmed eyes and snivels, "really?"

"Really."

…

"Katniss," he takes a deep breath, "do you remember when we were little, the first day of school? You had on a red plaid dress and your hair…it was in two braids instead of one."

How he remembers details like that are beyond me. How he remembers _me_ is beyond me. I don't remember much, except for singing the valley the song. The valley song. That song is something I never want to remember. That song has haunted me for my whole life. That is what I associate with my father's death. I know it is foolish, but I feel like if we had finished that song, he wouldn't have died. Or he would've, but he would've had closure. He died before he ever got to say goodbye. He died before he got to tell me he loved me.

" My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up. He told me 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother but she ran off with a coal miner.' And I said 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he told me that when he sings, even the birds stop to listen."

Its true. He had the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. I told him that one night, and he told me to stop lying because my voice was much more beautiful. A pang of sadness hits my chest and my eyes start to water.

"How do you remember that?"

"That was the day I fell in love with you, Katniss, I remember everything about that day."

The way Peeta is able to say these deep and emotional things as if they are facts, and not deep secrets buried beneath the surface never ceases to amaze me.

"That day in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the Valley Song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent."

The valley song. The valley song. The valley song. The song that has haunted my nightmares since I was eleven.

"Katniss? Katniss? What's wrong? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Why is he apologizing? Is he really just such an inherently good person that he would apologize for me being emotionally unstable?

"It's not you, Peeta, it's not, really. It's just…my father taught me that song, and, and, on the day he died, he sang it to me, while we walked to school. We sang it together, him and me. But we hadn't finished by the time we got to school, so he promised that he would pick me up and we would finish on the way home, because that song was my favorite song, and I always sang it. We always sang it. I was waiting the whole day for him to come get me, only he never did. He never came for me. We never finished the song."

My voice cracks on the last sentence, and I hide my face, ashamed.

"Oh, Katniss," he whispers, "I'm so sorry."

I look at him, my eyes still watering. I am so tired of always being strong, always being the one comforting, never the one being comforted. Right now I want nothing more than to be enveloped in Peeta's arms, feeling safe with his strong arms there to protect me.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I walk up to Peeta and throw my arms around him. He looks shocked but quickly slithers his arms around me, and I can't help but notice how strong they are. And how weak I must seem now.

"No, I'm sorry. You must think I'm weak now, weak and emotional."

"I don't think your weak. Being emotional doesn't make you weak Katniss, it makes you human."

He manages to make me feel better about myself even when I am being weak and shallow. I think Peeta might be the most inherently good person in the world. Coming to this realization, I feel a sense of protectiveness over him, because I want him to be mine. I want to be his. I want him. I want to be with him, forever.

I look up at him with my red rimmed eyes and what must be a disgusting sniveling nose, "really?"

"Really."

My face is still buried in his chest, and I plan on leaving it there for a very long while. I inhale the smell of him and my heart is filled with a leaping desire for him, I can barely contain it. I have to tell him how I feel before I chicken out, before somebody else does.

"Peeta?"

"Yeah?"

"I was waiting for you to come home to me."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter, but hey, what can you do?**

**Disclaimer: All the other fanfics have this, so I suppose I should too: I don't own the Hunger Games :(**

**So, since I've gotten a few comments about the pace this story is moving, with people telling me they've stopped reading because of it, I thought I'd put in a note telling you guys that the writing changes in a few chapters, not having the repetition from different POV's anymore. (:**

* * *

She was waiting for me. She was waiting for _me_! I'm pretty sure my heart is going to burst out of my chest any second now from all my elation.

I look down at the top of her head, she is still holding on to me steadfastly. Not that I have any problem with that, the girl of my dreams clinging to me.

"You can keep going," She says, her voice muffled by my shirt.

"What, oh yeah, sorry," I say, and I continue my story, "I paid attention to you for years, and I remember when your dad, you know,"

She gives me a nod to let me know it's all right and to continue.

"After that, you started looking so thin and pale, and lifeless and my heart was breaking every time I saw you. "

I can feel Katniss stiffen at the memory; it's not exactly something she would want to relive. I ask her if she wants me to stop, but she shakes her head, so I continue.

"Then, that one night, when you were at my back door, I heard my mom yelling. I looked through the window, and I remember wanting to scream at my mother for yelling at you, I remember just wanting to bring you inside and give you food and give you everything I had. But I couldn't. So I burned the bread on purpose to bring it out to you, because I knew that was the only way I could help."

"But, but you got hurt in the process…Why would you help me if you knew you were going to get hurt?"

"Katniss, I would've done anything to help you."

…

"You can keep going," I say quietly, shyly.

"What, oh yeah, sorry," He says, "I paid attention to you for years, and I remember when your dad, you know,"

I instinctively shrink back, but I know Peeta means no harm, so I nod to let him know that I'm alright with him talking about what happened.

"After that, you started looking so thin and pale and lifeless and my heart was breaking every time I saw you. "

I mentally relive that night. I remember the biting feeling of hollowness, the pain of hunger that threatened to overtake not just me, but my entire family. I remember seeing Prim, so young and fragile, she looked like a skeleton.

I remember Peeta, and the hope he gave me to keep going.

"Then, that one night, when you were at my back door, I heard my mom yelling. I looked through the window, and I remember wanting to scream at my mother for yelling at you, I remember just wanting to bring you inside and give you food and give you everything I had. But I couldn't. So I burned the bread on purpose to bring it out to you, because I knew that was the only way I could help."

He amazes me with every sentence he says. He is just such a naturally good person, I can't fathom why he would pick…me.

"But, but you got hurt in the process…Why would you help me if you knew you were going to get hurt?"

"Katniss, I would've done anything to help you."

"Why?" I ask, my voice timid and weak.

"I think you know why, Katniss."

I look up at him, and my desire wins out. I reach my lips up to his, and his come down to me, and just like that, we're kissing.

It feels like the sun and the moon, it feels so indescribably good, it feels like a high that I never want to come down from, I never want it to stop, never.

My hand finds its way into his curly locks and positions itself there, while one of his arms skates up my back and the other rest firmly on my hip, and I love it, love it, love it.

I can feel him smiling into our kiss and I smile back, I wish I could spend the rest of eternity with him like this, us, joined together as one.

…

She looks up at me, her eyes filled with wonder, and eases her lips onto mine. It feels euphoric, I wouldn't care if the building were on fire right now, as long as she was with me.

She knots her hand in my hair and I bring mine up her back, which arches instinctively. I don't even know how to describe the feeling of kissing the girl I've been in love with my whole life, I feel like I will spend the rest of my life thinking back to this one moment with her, us, joined together as one.

I want to stay like this forever, and as the reality of the situation dawns on me, I start to smile, smile like I have never smiled before. I'm pretty sure Katniss thinks I'm a lunatic, but she smiles back into the kiss and we keep going.

"Don't you guys need to come out for air?"

Shit.

Rye.

…

"Don't you guys need to come out for air?"

I turn around, and to my horror I see none other than Peeta's older brother, Rye. He has a mischievous smile on his face, while mine is slowly turning the color of a tomato.

"Oh, don't let me bother you two lovebirds, carry on, carry on."

"Rye…" Peeta's low growly voice is so different from anything I've ever heard from him. He sounds, well, manly.

And slightly scary.

"So, this is the girl that you wanted to be waiting for you, huh," responds Rye, "Not as much of a looker as I thought."

I'll admit, even though I know I'm not pretty, hearing him say that hurt. I usually don't care for such trivial things as appearance, but in front of Peeta, I felt a crippling sense of embarrassment.

"I'm just going to…go now. Bye, Peeta. I'll see you around…maybe," I say hurriedly, and practically run out the door.

By the time I make it back to my house, I realize that I've left my game bag at the Mellark's. I try to enlist Prim to get them, but she refuses to do so twice in a week.

Now I'm at a standstill. Go back and face Peeta, face the embarrassment, or leave my game bag and the food, and I know the latter is not an option.

…

As soon as Katniss is out the door, I tackle Rye. Not the brotherly. Bonding type of tackle. The I-want-to-kill-you-so-bad-right-now kind of tackle. She kissed me. She _kissed_ me. And it was amazing. Until my dipshit excuse of a brother came and ruined it all.

I'm almost angrier than when Rue died. We had teamed up together; Rue and I, and when it was down to us, Cato, Clove, Foxface, and Thresh. Marvel caught her in a net and speared her while I was gone looking for food. When I found her, it was too late. I can still remember her last words to me, clear as day. I remember her telling me that whatever girl I was going to go home to was a lucky one.

My heart broke at those words, and I released a rage inside me that had been dormant my whole life, and Marvel was dead within a minute. I sobbed for hours. I sobbed over the life that was stolen from Rue, I sobbed because she could never experience being a teenager, falling in love, really living.

I miss Rue every single second of every single day.

What the hell, Rye?"

"What?" He says with a grin.

"Rye! I finally, finally got her to even _talk _to me, and you came along and ruined it! Why the hell did you do that?"

Rye looks at me, understanding dawning on his face. He realizes that Katniss was not just one of the girls that were after me once I became a Victor, but that she was _the_ girl. The only one that would really ever matter to me.

"Oh, man Peeta, I'm sorry bro, I had no idea" Rye looks legitimately remorseful, which is something that shocks me.

"You probably just ruined any chance I had with her, Rye," I say roughly.

"No, I didn't, trust me. She might not like her in-laws one day, but I guarantee you, from what I saw, you are so not screwed. In fact, you might just be screwed—"

"Rye!"

"Alright, Peeta, whatever, be all gentlemanly and proper if you like, but I'm telling you man, she's got it bad for you—"

I try to ignore Rye. I'm not furious with him, but he's still treating Katniss as if she's an object, not a woman. _My_ woman. As Rye walks out of the room, I see her game bag and bread on the counter, and know I'm going to have to bring it to her. _Oh well, _Ithink_, just an excuse to get this over with sooner. _

I make my way out the door and into town square. My thoughts are all consumed with one word: Katniss. What's going to happen? She'll be furious, I know that. She might yell, or scream, or, even worse, she might ignore me. Pretend I don't exist. Pretend what happened didn't exist.

I am walking on the road between the town and the seam, my mind consumed with thoughts. Should I find her and squeeze in an apology before she says anything? Let her be mad, and then explain? I have no idea what to do.

I start to make my way into the seam, and it's hot outside. So, so hot. I look up at the sun, and it seems to be right past its apex in the sky. _Only for Katniss_, I think to myself. _Katniss_. I spend the rest of my walk over reminiscing on our kiss. I'm still somewhat in denial about it, the euphoria I felt, the way she felt, it took my breath away.

_She is so perfect_, I think to myself.

I'm walking along, not really paying attention to where I'm going when I bump into someone.

"Oh, sorry—"

Katniss.

I ran into Katniss.

…

I spend the next twenty minutes talking myself up to visiting the Mellark bakery. It doesn't have to be awkward, does it? I can just walk in, grab my stuff, and leave. As I decide on this conclusion, I leave my house and start to walk towards town square.

I'm not paying much attention to my surroundings when I bump into someone.

"Oh, sorry—" He says.

Peeta.

"Hey, Katniss," He says with a small smile.

You can almost feel the awkward.

"Hey Peeta…" I say resignedly.

He hands me my game bag and the bread and tells me that I forgot them. _What news, that's definitely not what I was going back for_, I think to myself. I instantly chide myself for thinking that.

"So, umm, about earlier…" Says Peeta, clearly lost and fumbling for words, " I just…sorry. About Rye. He didn't mean any of it. He was just being stupid."

I put my hands on my hips and look at him crossly. I want to believe him, that his brother was just kidding around, but I can't bring myself to. I feel stupid now, humiliated. And I hate it.

"Katniss, look, Rye was just teasing me. He didn't mean anything by it—"

"No, Peeta, it's not that," I say quietly.

"Then what is it?"

"Its just…I don't care what he thinks, I care what….I care what you think," I say slowly, carefully, picking my words with precision.

"Katniss, do you want to know what I think?" Says Peeta, bringing his thumbs up against my face, and I nod. He continues after a long pause, "I think you're beautiful."

"Really?" I'm sure I sound weak and pathetic.

"Really," His voice sounds so sure and steady and wonderful, just like he is, and I can't stand it. I want what I had earlier today with him. I want _him_.

That is the second time today our lips meet.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: To explain about Katniss in this chapter, I'm going to use a description I found on tumblr: Q- now that you've made my mind all dirty...how would katniss be in bed? A- at first she'd be like ugh physical contact gtfo, ****then she'd realise how good it felt and be like the sexual equivalent of a t-rex **

**I don't know why but I thought that was actually kind of accurate, so now Katniss is getting to the point where she's just like I NEED PEETA I NEED HIM...so yeah that's the explanation of why she's getting all hot about Peeta in this chapter...**

**I was thinking about writing some implied sex later, because lets face it, I have enough trouble writing kissing, so sex would just be like plain old horrible...yes or no? I could enlist one of my friends to write it for me, if you guys comment and tell me if you want it.**

* * *

As I walk home, I mentally relive the moment. I kissed Peeta, Peeta kissed me, I love Peeta, Peeta loves me.

I can barely process this.

I think back to four months ago, before the Games, before the reaping, before Peeta. I think about Peeta's name being called. I think about how his eyes caught mine for just a second, I think about how they were watery and red-rimmed.

I remember watching him in the interviews and the Games; I remember hoping he meant me when he said 'I hope so'. He did.

My heart threatens to swell out of my chest.

I remember the heartbreak I felt when I saw his leg, how Cato had cut it. I was sure he was going to die, I was so, so sure. And he came too damn close to it for my liking.

I remember in the interview with Caesar Flickerman, he was asked about that. He was asked how he carried on, how he managed to not give up. I remember his response. 'I thought of her'. He thought of _me_.

I still can't comprehend why he would choose me. There were so many better, more viable options for him, but he chose the brazen seam girl. That's all I was, really. Or that's how I was known, at least.

I can't help feeling like he should go for someone else. Someone kinder, someone richer, someone from town, someone _better_, because that's what he deserves.

…

I walk back to my house in Victor's Village in a daze. Since my family chose not to live with me, my house is deserted. As I walk in, I feel like I could practically break out into song.

She kissed me! She kissed me _again_!

I replay the scene in my mind: She reaches up and kisses me, and I kiss her, and I kiss her like there is no tomorrow. I kiss her with everything I have, I kiss her and try to show her how much I feel for her, how much I love her, all in that one kiss. But I can't: Eleven years of being in love is a lot to condense into one kiss.

I guess we'll just have to do it again then.

I think of how she laced her hand in my hair, while mine was tracing her back and pulling her closer, I think of how she stood in the center of the street, hugging me, not letting me go. I think of how she nestled he head on my chest, I think of how inexplicably perfect she is.

I'm so lost in my thoughts of Katniss I almost don't hear someone knocking on the door and I mentally curse whoever interrupted me from my daydreaming about her.

I've just barely opened the door when it gets flung open and someone small comes crashing on me. Or, more precisely, her lips come crashing on mine.

….

I try talking myself out of going to Peeta's house in the Victor's Village, but my feet do not obey me. I have this _need_, this hunger that I can't explain. I need Peeta, I need him _now_.

I feel like I should have a valid reason for going to see Peeta not 40 minutes after I saw him last, but I can't come up with anything other than _I need him_.

I am walking into Victor's Village, and as I see the circle of twelve houses, I realize I have no idea which one Peeta lives in. Haymitch's house is obvious, it looks like a dump. I look at the houses, trying to decipher which one Peeta would like the best. They all look the same, save one that has flowers in the front yard. _Found it_, I think.

Peeta would be the one with a giant flower garden.

I walk up to the front door, take a deep breath, and knock. A part of me, a large part, wants to make a break for the forest right now and hope he doesn't see me, but my hunger for him is too strong and I stay rooted to the spot.

Until he opens the door, at least.

I practically leap into his arms, and I kiss him with everything I have. I don't know at all what's gotten into me, but I know one thing: I love it. I wonder how I could've gone all those years believing love was something shameful, horrible, weakening, when really, it's the best thing in the world.

I wrap my legs around him and he picks me up, we manage to kiss and kiss and kiss, for so long, and yet I don't feel my hunger for him being sated, it just grows stronger with every passing second.

"Peeta?" I whisper, hating to break off our kiss, but I need to talk to him, I felt an overwhelming need to tell him why, how I fell in love with him, and I've no idea why. I just feel like if I know when and how he fell in love with me, he should know my side of the story too.

"Hm?" He says, and his voice is so low and growly sounding, I can barely stand not having his lips on mine.

"I wasn't in love with you."

This grabs his attention. His face turns stony and downtrodden, and I can see the gears in his head struggling to connect what I mean. It is then that I realize how badly it was phrased.

"I mean, like, before the Games," I say hurridly, So I can get to my point and he can see what I truly mean, "I didn't know you, I mean, I knew _of_ you, but I had no idea how wonderful you were, _are_."

I realize that he might think that I'm saying I fell in love with him _because_ he's a Victor, not despite it.

"I was going to go see you before you left, you know. I got in line at the Justice Building and everything. But then I realized that we hardly even met, we've never even talked. I was going to thank you for the bread, for being the boy with the bread, for being _my_ boy with the bread. And I was going to say goodbye. But I chickened out. And every time I saw you on screen, I saw a lost opportunity. I saw how good of a person you were, and I watched you during your interview, so closely. I remember when Caesar asked you if you had someone waiting back home, and I remember you saying 'I hope so'. And I remember wondering, wishing, _hoping_, that you were talking about me."

Peeta looks deep in thought, but he doesn't seem upset, so I continue.

"I remember when you cut your leg, the hopelessness I felt, the sorrow, I felt like I could never forgive myself for not thanking you, that you were going to die, that I would have never even have a conversation with you. I spent every waking moment glued to the television to make sure you were okay. You kept going, I don't know how, but you did. And then you won. You were coming home! I realized that I could finally talk to you, say thank you, I could finally have closure," I take a deep breath, "The thing is, I wanted more than closure…I wanted you."

* * *

**A/N: I'm not completely happy with this chapter, but it'll have to do...what do you think of it?:)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games:(**

**Tell me what you think of this chapter!:)**

* * *

"Peeta?" She whispers, her voice low and husky.

"Hm?" I ask, reluctant to break off our kissing. I turn look at her and her eyes are wide, she takes a breath as if to prepare herself for what she is going to say.

"I wasn't in love with you."

My heart breaks. I mull over what she said in my mind, thinking, hoping, grasping for something. _I wasn't in love with you. _I realize what I missed before: _Wasn't_. That implies that she is…now. I think maybe that she has poorly worded that sentence and wait for her to continue, my face still stony.

"I mean, like, before the Games," She says quickly, almost indecipherably, as if she wants to spit the whole thing out and be done with it, "I didn't know you, I mean, I knew _of_ you, but I had no idea how wonderful you were, _are_."

So she fell in love with me because I'm a Victor. A _wonderful _Victor.

"I was going to go see you before you left, you know. I got in line at the Justice Building and everything."

So she wanted to say goodbye because she thought I was going to die. Wonderful.

"But then I realized that we'd hardly even met, we've never even talked. I was going to thank you for the bread, for being the boy with the bread, for being _my_ boy with the bread. And I was going to say goodbye. But I chickened out. And every time I saw you on screen, I saw a lost opportunity. I saw how good of a person you were, and I watched you during your interview, so closely. I remember when Caesar asked you if you had someone waiting back home, and I remember you saying 'I hope so'. And I remember wondering, wishing, _hoping_, that you were talking about me."

It is in that moment that I have an overwhelming desire to punch myself in the face for the things I thought about her.

And then I process her last two sentences.

And my heart leaps.

"I remember when you cut your leg, the hopelessness I felt, the sorrow, I felt like I could never forgive myself for not thanking you, that you were going to die, that I would have never even have a conversation with you. I spent every waking moment glued to the television to make sure you were okay. You kept going, I don't know how, but you did. And then you won. You were coming home! I realized that I could finally talk to you, say thank you, I could finally have closure," She takes a deep breath, "The thing is, I wanted more than closure…I wanted you."

She wanted me. _Wants _me. I repeat those words, a mantra, over and over in my head.

"I realized you were coming home, Peeta. Coming home to me."

"Coming home to you," I repeat with a smile, "You know, Katniss, when I was on the train on the way back, you were all I could think about."

She looks at me questioningly, unbelievingly.

"You were! I spent the train ride wondering where you were going to be, wondering if you saw my interview, if you knew I was talking about you in the interview…if you cared that I was coming home…"

I trail off on my declaration because at that moment, Katniss puts her hands on my cheeks, and turns my head towards her, so I look her straight in the eye.

"You're so stupid sometimes, Peeta," She says, and drops her arms, "Of course I cared. I cared so much, _so_ much, I wanted you so badly."

Does she realize she has complete control over my emotional stability?

"Well now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?" I ask mischeviously.

"Put you somewhere you can't get hurt."

…

"I realized you were coming home, Peeta. Coming home to me."

Saying those words, even if it is the second time I've confessed them, is so difficult for me. I shy away from any type of affection, and showing some is so much harder than listening to someone be affectionate towards you. I practically had to choke out every syllable.

"Coming home to you," He repeats with a smile, his beautiful smile, "You know, Katniss, when I was on the train on the way back, you were all I could think about."

That can't be true. He should've been thinking about how he won, how he was going to see his family again, how he would be rich and happy for the rest of his life, not about a girl from the seam. I don't quite believe him.

"You were!" He continues, sensing my hesitation, "I spent the train ride wondering where you were going to be, wondering if you saw my interview, if you knew I meant you…if you cared that I was coming home…"

I want to slap him across the face for saying that. Of course I cared! He has no idea the extent to which I cared!

I put my hands on his cheeks, and turn his head so that his eyes bore directly into mine. I notice his eyes, really notice them, and they are the most beautiful blue I have ever seen in my life, it takes every ounce of restraint I have in my body to not kiss him right now, and his stupid beautiful blue eyes, and his stupid long blond eyelashes, and slide my hand in his stupid curly blonde hair.

"You're so stupid sometimes, Peeta," I say, and drop my arms, "Of course I cared. I cared so much, _so_ much, I wanted you so badly."

"Well now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?" He asks. I swear, he is asking me these personal questions just so he can watch me struggle to come up with an answer. I'm terrible at this romance stuff.

"Put you somewhere you can't get hurt," I decide upon, finally.

Peeta looks down at me, and I up at him, and he does something unexpected but not unwelcome: he sweeps me off my feet, bridal style, and carries me up to his room, me swatting at him and him laughing too much for my liking. He seems to be thoroughly enjoying my struggle to get out of his arms, which is a lot more difficult than it would seem.

We spend the next few hours in his room, talking, playing, and yes, kissing, until finally, we fall asleep in each others arms, his body cocooned around mine.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I tried to move the story forward more than I have been, I'm hoping to get through the Victory tour and the reaping for the Quell in the next couple chapters. Tell me what you think!**

* * *

I wake up to the sound of ringing. I don't know where it's coming from, and I don't know what it is, and for that matter, I don't even know where I am.

I sit up and hear a slight groan coming from behind me, startling me. I whip around, and see none other than Peeta Mellark looking up at me. Suddenly, memories from yesterday come rushing back to me.

I kissed Peeta Mellark. Several times.

I fell asleep in Peeta Mellark's arms.

I am in love with Peeta Mellark.

"Well, are you going to get that?" He asks, his voice heavy from sleep.

"Get what?" I ask, puzzled.

"The phone, Katniss."

"Huh?" I ask, I've only ever heard of telephones a handful of times before, much less seen one, "You have…a phone?"

Peeta smiles at me, a sort of knowing smile, and reaches up for the phone. I only hear slivers of the conversation, but from what I can tell, he's talking to the district's escort, Effie Trinket.

As the conversation progresses, the smile on his face disappears. His answers are a chorus of "uh-huh," "Yeah," "Got it," and "I will," for what seems like fifteen minutes until he says goodbye to Effie and hangs up.

He looks at me, his face much less happy than it was before the call.

"Effie called me about the Victory Tour," he says, grimacing, "They're moving it up because of the Quell. To next week."

Next week! He's been home less than two weeks, he was supposed to have months before he has to relive the nightmares of the Games!

"She said they needed more time because this Quell was the 'biggest ever'," Says Peeta, slowly, "Katniss, she asked me about 'my girl'. Apparently there was an anonymous tip off by a citizen in twelve about you, and Snow wants you on the Tour with me."

How would anyone know about Peeta and I? I talked to him for the first time last week! Unless…when we kissed…in the middle of the street. _Good move_, Katniss.

I know one thing for sure: I don't want to be pulled into the Victory Tour, made to be dressed up like a doll and stand by Peeta like a trophy. I can't. Who would feed Prim and my mother while I was gone?

"And Katniss?" Says Peeta in a voice almost completely devoid of inflection, "Snow said that if you didn't come…he said there would be serious consequences… involving Prim. He said 'It really would be a shame if someone so young and innocent were to be reaped, wouldn't it', Oh Katniss, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

And now I'm even more confused, because what's he sorry for, and why would Prim be threatened, why does it matter that much that I go along with Peeta, why, why, why?

"Katniss, there's something I never told you. President Snow threatened…he threatened to kill my family, and my friends, and everyone I cared about…unless I was able to convince the nation that I did what I did because I am a soft-hearted fool. The Gamemakers were furious that I outsmarted them."

He's talking about how he won. The berries. When he was in an alliance with Rue, she had found some and shown him. They were very poisonous berries, called nightlock. I recognize them, my father used to show me them and make me promise to be very careful never to eat one, they would kill me in an instant if swallowed.

When it was down to Peeta and Cato on the top of the Cornucopia, Cato was thrown off by Peeta towards the mutts. His screams went on for hours. Finally, when it was too much for Peeta, he took out the nightlock berries. It was obvious to everyone that the body armor the Capitol had given Cato was meant to serve this exact purpose: prolonging his death for the amusement of the Capitol viewers. When Peeta held out the nightlock, he shouted out that he would kill himself unless they stop Cato's suffering, it was plain to see that there was no way Cato could recover from his wounds, he looked less like a person and more like a hunk of meat.

The Capitol did nothing; Peeta raised the berries to his lips. It was clear: they would have one Victor or none. When he was about to swallow them, the frantic voice of Cladius Templesmith called out for him to stop, and that he would be Victor. He looked down at Cato one last time, and we could all see his former competitor mouth 'thank you' before he closed his eyes and passed. Peeta had shown him the ultimate kindness, but the Capitol resented him for it. He outsmarted the Gamemakers, made them look like fools, and the only reason he had to bring me along was because President Snow needed a way to prove that Peeta cared about me, and that I could be dead with a snap of his fingers if need be.

My life rests in the acting skills of Peeta Mellark.

If he steps so much as a toe out of line, I will be killed. In front of him.

I used to think being a Victor would be amazing, having food at your disposal and getting the rest of the district food for a year, but now I see it for what it really is: living Hell.

You never really leave the Games, it seems.

…

My life is a living nightmare.

Katniss' life is on the line of my acting skills.

The Capitol is going to kill everyone I love if I don't convince the districts that I did what I did because I am a 'soft-hearted fool'. Hence Katniss. The fact that I mentioned a girl back home will help, they said. It already makes me seem soft. But now I have to be completely foolish and weak. I should be the kind of person that screams at a spider, they said.

I need to seem like a joke, basically.

And I need to do it well.

* * *

**Tell me what you thought of this chapter! Do you want more Everlark, more character development, more insights, fluff? Comment and I'll try to put some of what you want in next chapter!**

**MaryclumsyCatherine: Do you think the story moved forward enough this chap? I really tried to get the storyline going. (:**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm going to try to add some Everlark fluff in the next few chapters, but I need to keep the story moving along, so be patient, the fluff will come. :3**

**Review from last chapter: **

**The Capitol is going to kill everyone I love if I don't convince the districts that I did what I did because I am a 'soft-hearted fool'. Hence Katniss. The fact that I mentioned a girl back home will help, they said. It already makes me seem soft. But now I have to be completely foolish and weak. I should be the kind of person that screams at a spider, they said.**

**I need to seem like a joke, basically.**

**And I need to do it well.**

* * *

Our week is up.

We have spent it telling our families what is going to happen, why it has to happen, what will happen if it doesn't.

We must play our parts perfectly.

Every time I look at Katniss, I feel a pang of guilt in my chest. I'm the reason she's in this position, I'm the reason her life is in danger. If I had just left her out of it, admired her from afar as I had been doing for the last eleven years, she would be safe.

I can barely stand the guilt.

Whenever I try to bring this up with her, she doesn't let me finish. Nonsense, she tells me.

I don't believe her.

Yesterday, a white rose showed up on our front door. Attatched to it was a note, signed President Snow, telling Katniss good luck and 'May the odds be ever in her favor.'

That note and rose are now ashes in her fireplace.

Today, my prep team showed up on my front doorstep, demanding to see 'my girl'. When she walked in, I could see her try to mask her laughter.

She didn't succeed.

Of course, I can't really blame her. It's hard to take anyone with pink zebra-striped skin seriously, especially one that's a muscular grown man.

I know they took her to remake her to 'beauty base zero', whatever that is. She is in the bathroom for a much longer time than I was in the remake center, and when she comes out, she ignores me for the rest of the day, after glaring at me as she stormed out of the house.

"She's a real charmer, that one," Says Orion, A.K.A pink zebra-stripes.

I can tell he is obviously being sarcastic. While most people view Katniss as brazen and abrasive, I think she is full of fire. Beautiful, strong, bright, fire. But you have to be careful, because if you take one step out of line, you're going to get burned.

…

As Peeta's prep team works on me, I mentally curse him out with every unthinkable word that comes to mind. I have no conception as to why on earth anyone would willingly subject themselves to this: Having their skin scrubbed raw, hair plucked, groomed like a pet.

I am set firm on one thing though: If they try to put pink zebra-stripes on me, it will be the last thing they ever do.

After I'm finished with what I would call a torture session, I am free to stay with Peeta all day, but I can barely look at him.

I walk out of his house, glaring at him for what he subjected me for the last three hours, and he lets me go.

_Smart move_, Mellark.

As I make my way back to the Seam, someone calls my name behind me.

I would know that voice anywhere.

Gale.

"Catnip, Catnip!" He calls, running up to me panting breathily, "Hey, Catnip. I haven't seen you all week. How's it been?"

Of course. He's been at the mines all day, and only comes home to sleep and eat, so it would make sense for him to have no idea as to the predicament I'm in.

The predicament Peeta's in.

"Hey, Gale," I say, bracing myself for giving him the news.

I explain to him about Peeta, about last week, about how we kissed, about the Victory Tour (Which I'm surprised he doesn't know about, it was in an official broadcast six days ago, with Peeta bringing along a 'mystery guest'), what the Capitol will do to Peeta, to me, if he doesn't perform, what he has to convince the districts of.

Gale's face turns cold and stony.

I don't know what to expect him to say, maybe something along the lines of 'You better brush up on your acting skills then, Catnip,' or 'Since when did you develop human emotions, oh mighty superior one,' but I'm not at all expecting what he does say:

"How long? How long have you had feelings for Peeta?"

Shouldn't he be more worried about the fact that, oh, I don't know, I have a chance of being killed! He's just surprised that I _like_ someone! This makes me livid, makes me want to punch Gale in the face, I never thought he would be so shallow as to say something like that! Make a joke about it sure, but then he would normally have said to stay safe, or promise to keep Prim safe!

"Really Gale? Really? That's what you pick up on?" I yell, not caring who's listening, "My life is in danger, and you care about the fact that I kissed Peeta!"

"Catnip, Catnip, no! I didn't mean it like that at all!" His words are coming out in a rush, as if he is trying to prevent me form saying anything further, "All I meant was that I was surprised, that you would, you know, kiss _him_."

"Let's just ignore the fact that _my life is in danger_, shall we Gale?" I say, unable to hide the bitter contempt in my voice.

"Catnip, I do care! I really do! But I know Peeta will do whatever it takes to protect you," I can sense a touch of jealousy in his voice, which confuses me, "And I will too."

What?

"Catnip, I've seen Mellark. He's been in love with you for years."

I really don't see how this is relevant to our conversation, but I nod him on, curious.

"But here's the thing Catnip," He says, taking a deep breath, "So have I."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games:( **

**Review: **

"**Catnip, I've seen Mellark. He's been in love with you for years."**

**I really don't see how this is relevant to our conversation, but I nod him on, curious.**

"**But here's the thing Catnip," He says, taking a deep breath, "So have I."**

* * *

I don't even know what my life has come to anymore. It used to be lined up in perfect precision, wake up, hunt, school, trade, home, sleep, repeat. Now I feel like my life is a jumbled up ball of romantic mush.

Gale and Peeta told me they love me.

But here's the thing: I'm no good at this stuff. All the romantic things going on between me and Peeta, Peeta's been the one instigating them. I just kind of go with whatever he does or says, because I'm clueless.

But Gale. Gale is my friend. My best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I love Gale, yes, but I love him like a brother.

Apparently those feelings aren't mutual.

To my everlasting credit, I didn't run off when he told me. That's a step up from what happened with Peeta though, right? The difference is that I don't want to be with Gale…like _that_. But I do with Peeta.

I'm extremely confused.

When Gale told me his story, about how he saw me as a friend until a little over a year ago when Darius was flirting with me and he realized that 'he minded', I kind of just stood there, hearing him out. I honestly didn't have the patience or time for this romantic fluff.

I asked him why now. Why, after all this time, tell me now? When I was going to go on a Victory Tour with _Peeta_! When I had a fair chance of being killed! Why now?

I remember his respond, clear and simple, "Because it's not too late, Katniss."

What? How is it 'not too late?' I'm leaving _tomorrow_!

"We could do it, you know," He says, gravely, "Take off, live in the woods."

"They'd catch us."

"Maybe," says Gale, but he doesn't look very convinced.

"We wouldn't make it five miles."

With that, I turn around and walk away. As enticing as leaving the District might sound, I know we can't. What would happen to Peeta? Our friends? Family?

Of course, we'd take our family along. Gale and I had discussed this topic in depth before. The thing is, how would we provide food, shelter, and clothing for six people not including ourselves?

It's true, we wouldn't make it five miles. Not with fragile Prim, or little Posy. We probably wouldn't make it under the fence before one of them stopped.

I know we have to stay.

It's dangerous being so close to a Victor, I know that. I know that if I had never gone to see Peeta that one day in the bakery, none of this would've happened. My life wouldn't be in danger. But I wouldn't have Peeta.

I wouldn't trade Peeta for the world.

…

Today the train is leaving for District 11.

Last night, the nightmares returned.

The visions of mutts, of Cato, of Rue, in a bloody mess, they haunt my dreams all night. I'm kicking and thrashing, my bed wet with sweat. I wonder if these nightmares will plague me for the rest of my life.

The train departs at 10:00 in the morning, and I am meeting Katniss at the station, along with Effie, Haymitch, Portia, and my prep team.

When Katniss arrives, I feel drowned in guilt. It's my fault, it's my fault that her life is in danger, it could be my fault that she dies. This thought urges me on to perform better than I ever could have before.

I see how the Capitol works, simple, cruel, but effective. The omnipresent threat, worse than anything that could be inflicted upon me: hurting my loved ones.

Hurting my Katniss.

…

I don't go to see Peeta until we're on the train. Luckily, there were no cameras on the platform, but still, you can never be too careful.

I walk to his cabin and knock slowly, three times. Peeta opens the door for me and I walk in.

Peeta looks terrible. His eyes have bags under them, practically purple in color, his hair is a mess, his whole demeanor screams insomnia.

"Peeta," I walk over to him, my voice soft, "Are you alright?"

"Nightmares, Katniss," He says back, his voice sounds dead tired, "And you."

And me? What does that mean? I look at him questioningly, waiting for an answer.

"The mutts…they came for me. And Rue, she died, again, and again, and again, and I had to watch, Katniss. It was terrible…" His eyes are haunted, looking off into some faraway distance that only he can see.

Now I can truly see the hell that Victors live through. The Games aren't ever really over, really _gone_, for them. Every time they shut their eyes, all they see is the bloodshed, the killing from the games.

I don't know what to tell him.

"Peeta, Peeta, shhh," I coo, attempting to sooth him, his head rests on my lap and my hands run through his hair, "I'm right here, it was just a dream, Peeta."

"But what if it wasn't Katniss," He says, his voice broken and fragile, "I know it wasn't real, but it could be. In the future. If I mess up, even just once, Katniss, they're going to take you from me, hurt you, torture you, kill you," He sounds like he wants to torture himself right now, "I can't let that happen, Katniss."

"You're not going to, Peeta. I know you, I know you won't," I say resolutely, my voice sounds much surer than I feel.

It's not that I doubt Peeta, because I don't, not at all, I'm sure he'll be perfect, it's just that I don't trust myself. I don't trust myself to stand up on stage with Peeta and be a trophy, smile when I'm supposed to smile, wave when I'm supposed to wave, kiss him when I'm supposed to kiss him.

I don't trust myself to save Peeta.

* * *

**A/N: EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!(Cue the Dalek voice(: ) Katniss views herself as headstrong, responsible, mature. When she says she doesn't trust herself to save Peeta, she means that she thinks she might mess up, saying something, doing something that the Capitol doesn't want, thus ensuring Peeta's punishment. **

**She has no doubt in her mind that Peeta will bring her home safely, but she's saying that if she messes up, she will be tortured/killed, and that will get to Peeta, turn him into a different person, different from the person she so loves because of his goodness.**

**So you see, Katniss is actually a very loving and selfless person, she just puts up a front of indifference. She loves deeply, but not widely.**

**I'm going to add some more fluff later on in the Victory Tour, just wait for it :D It's actually pretty hard to write fluff/smut, especially from a guy's POV.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Review:**

**It's not that I doubt Peeta, because I don't, not at all, I'm sure he'll be perfect, it's just that I don't trust myself. I don't trust myself to stand up on stage with Peeta and be a trophy, smile when I'm supposed to smile, wave when I'm supposed to wave, kiss him when I'm supposed to kiss him. **

**I don't trust myself to save Peeta.**

**A/N: I'm probably going to be updating once or twice a day now, so be sure to look for the new chapter notification in your emails, you amazing readers!**

* * *

Effie has taken it upon herself to coach me on how to 'act properly'. She takes four hours of strenuous explaining, yelling, and 'tut-tut'ing, before finally giving up on me and telling me to just try my best.

That was a brilliant way to spend four hours.

"Sweetie, you have just about as much charm as a dead slug."

I spin around, looking for the person that matches the dull, slurry voice. I spot him when he reveals himself from his hiding spot around the corner, where he has apparently been listening in on my psychological torture session with Effie.

Haymitch.

"Really, if I were you I wouldn't talk at all during the interviews. Just smile and wave, really. That is, if you're capable of smiling."

I scowl, apparently eliciting the reaction he wants, because he cracks a toothy grin and continues.

"Makes me wonder what Peeta sees in you, sweetheart."

I suppose he wants another rise out of me, and I resolutely decide not to give him what he wants. I turn and walk away, back to Peeta's cabin, and spend the rest of the day in there alone, Peeta now gone for coaching with Effie.

Not that he needs any, he's golden on camera.

…

We arrive in District Eleven the next day. There is a sea of cameras and press that seem to go on forever, all wanting to see their newest Victor and the 'mystery guest'. Of course, most people have already deduced that that the 'mystery guest' is the girl I mentioned in my interviews, but no one knows what her name is, who she really is.

Even back in District 12, no one but the sparse few who saw us kiss know Katniss is with me. I suppose it will be fairly obvious when she is not around the District for the next couple weeks.

Then again, I suppose it will be fairly obvious when her face is broadcasted on every screen in Panem.

I suppose she's not very happy about that.

When we walk out, Effie declares it must be in a precise order, and every has to be perfect, because it's going to be a 'big, big day!'.

Katniss walks up to me as the train starts to slow down, looking beautiful in a long silver strapless dress, but she's scowling so much it makes me almost want to run and hide.

"Ever heard of a smile, sweetheart?" Says Haymitch, drily.

This, of course, brings even more of a scowl to her face and I can't hide my amusement any longer, I chuckle.

Katniss glares at me, and my laughing turns into a badly disguised fit of coughing.

Effie chooses that precise moment to fling open the door of the train and step out, the smile on her face so wide and dazzling I'm sure the press waiting outside will be blinded, and after her follow my prep team, bouncing around and smiling at cameras, Portia, who walks out with much more dignity than my prep team, Haymitch, who, luckily, isn't completely wasted and manages to make it to the car provided without tripping or falling, and lastly, Katniss and I, holding hands.

…

At this moment in time, I wish for nothing more than to be able to crawl into a private, secluded area and hide. I can't see in front of me, and walking is being made significantly more difficult in the heels Portia forced me into. The only thing keeping me grounded is Peeta's hand in mine.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to cut off his circulation soon, but I can't bring myself to loosen my grip. Right now, he is my lifeline between here and insanity. Why people would choose to subject themselves to this lifestyle of celebrity is completely beyond me.

I hear so many people calling Peeta's name, asking for mine. Of course. I am still the anonymous girl, waiting at home for her Peeta to return to her, nothing more. I will never be anything but a roadblock to the people in the Capitol, especially the girls, because I took away their handsome Victor Peeta Mellark.

Sucks for them.

_Sucks for me._

I keep my eyes trained straight ahead, and smile until my mouth aches, like Effie taught me, and keep smiling after my mouth starts to ache, life Effie taught me.

'Pain is the price of beauty,' she would say to me.

That's a horrible saying.

I steal a glance at Peeta, only to see how much better he's doing than I am. He's waving, smiling, responding to people, and I realize how much of a robot I look like.

Peeta seems to notice my eyes trained on him, and he looks back at me, adoringly, lovingly. I try to return the look, but I'm pretty sure I look more like a mental patient than an adoring girlfriend. A chorus of 'kiss, kiss, kiss,' comes from every direction, the press wanting to be the first to see Peeta and his girl kissing, the first to come back with pictures.

Peeta feigns reluctance and humility, and wraps his left arm around my waist, while the press egg us on. He feigns giving in and kisses me, starting out with what is supposed to be a quick peck on the lips, but I don't want it to stop.

The world could be exploding around us and I wouldn't want it to stop.

My back arches into Peeta's arm and my hand comes up to his face, caressing it.

"I hate to break it to you two lovebirds, but unfortunately there is an entire district waiting for you, Peeta."

Haymitch.

I would be mad, but the realization that I kissed Peeta in front of dozens of cameras makes me more grateful than anything to Haymitch for stopping us. I blush profusely and almost run into the car waiting for us, Peeta following behind me in a more professional fashion.

I can't stop myself from wondering what Gale is doing, or will be doing, rather, when he sees these pictures that are sure to be all over the news soon.

I find that Gale and Peeta do not coexist well in my thoughts.


	12. Chapter 12

**Review: **

**I can't stop myself from wondering what Gale is doing, or will be doing, rather, when he sees these pictures that are sure to be all over the news soon. **

**I find that Gale and Peeta do not coexist well in my thoughts. **

**A/N: So from the reviews I've gotten (Thank you so much!), I've gotten several requests for more Everlark fluff. The fluff will come in the later districts, once Katniss loosens up about the tour. **

**And I know I haven't been doing very much Peeta POV lately, but I think the Victory Tour will be much more exciting from Katniss' POV, especially because she's not the Victor, and she's sort of treated as a trophy, nothing more. Also, I might decide to drop some bombs on her in the later part of the tour.**

**Also, go check out **_**Dust **_**by my best friend, Littlemissowl. It is phenomenally written, she really has a talent for writing. It is a Mockingjay songfic about Peeta's hijacking, and I promise you, it'll make you laugh, cry, and feel the things that Peeta feels. Just wait, you'll see.**

* * *

After I shake the thought of Gale from my mind, I look over at Peeta. He seems to be adjusted to the press and the fame. I guess that's expected, since he's a Victor, but whenever I look at him I still see the kind boy who gave me bread that one night.

The boy with the bread is gone. He's been replaced by someone who won the Games, a Victor, and it's changed him. Sometimes he looks like he's a thousand years old.

The Games have aged him in a way no sixteen-year old boy should be aged. Yet he still manages to be just so…so _Peeta_. He is still just as inherently good as he used to be, he is still as kind, loving, gentle as he was before the Games.

Peeta catches me staring at him.

"Do I have a stain on my shirt or something?" He asks, somewhat bemused.

"What? Oh, no, its just that, I was just thinking…" I am so lost. So lost on what to tell him, on what to say to him, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, "Come here."

Peeta looks confused, but does as I ask. He slides over into the seat next to me, and looks me straight in the eye with his beautiful blue eyes.

I can't even take it anymore. I succumb to my desire and kiss him, kiss him for what seems like eternity, but I don't care, I don't care, I don't care.

All I care about is him, and being as close to him as I can be.

Unfortunately, my desire is somewhat blocked by the seatbelts locking us in place.

I hear a soft sigh coming from up front, and realize that the car has stopped, and the door is opened by a Peacekeeper on Peeta's side. I'm waiting for some snide remark from Haymitch, or a lesson about proper ladylike conduct from Effie, but to my surprise, I get neither.

We are ushered into an area inside District Eleven's Justice Building. Where the floor of ours is engraved with a mosaic of two pickaxes, theirs has an ear of corn, all colored in bronze, which seems to be kept very tidy.

We make our way to an empty room, which seems to lead to a raised outdoor platform, which must be where Peeta will be giving his speech.

He must have practiced his speech a thousand times.

We were relaxing in his room, or at least _I _was. Peeta paced the room, repeating his speech over and over again. At first, I viewed the speech as a touching speech that was artfully written. After the first thirty recitations of the speech however, I found myself wishing for the moment he would decide he had enough practice. I decided he should stop now, before I go mad.

I threw a pillow at him.

"Stop, Peeta! You must have recited that speech a thousand times now! You've got it perfect, now come over here with me and we can have some _real_ fun," I attempt to add a sexy undertone in my voice for the last part, but I fail miserably.

I know I'm pretty terrible at being romantic or sexy or really anything of that sort, but It was the first thing I could think of that would make him stop. Unfortunately, he starts to laugh at my attempt, but he almost immediately stops himself and his smile slowly disappears from his face.

"Katniss, I can't. I can't. If I don't have it perfect, you know what the Capitol will do. I can't stand to watch anyone get hurt, especially you, I _have_ to make it perfect."

That shut me up.

As we stand in the empty room in the Justice Building, Peeta starts pacing. He looks nervous, so, so nervous, more nervous than I've ever seen him. During his interview, he made it seem like being up there with Caesar was as easy as breathing. He looked so natural, so _at ease, _it set everyone who was watching him at ease too.

Effie tells us that everyone is to go out, most of them just to wave and smile and walk off stage, all but Haymitch, Peeta and I. Haymitch will stand off to the side of the stage while Peeta gives his speech and I, _shockingly_, am to stand next to Peeta and smile. Nothing more, nothing less.

"And please, sweetie, try not to grimace like you have been, it's really not very becoming of you," were her parting words to me before she walked up to the stage.

It's our turn now, and Peeta looks to be on the verge of a panic attack. I do what feels natural, I grab his hand in mine and we walk out. I can feel his pulse, steadily decreasing, and he sends me a thankful smile.

He and I walk up to the microphone, and he takes a breath, and begins his speech.

"I remember the day I was picked for the reaping, I had to walk up onto a stage very much like this. I can clearly remember one emotion: regret. Regret that I would never be able to tell Katniss how I felt about her, because I was so sure I was going to die. She is what kept me going, she is what kept me fighting until the end. And I did. I was triumphant. I remember when the trumpets blared, telling me I was the Victor."

He looks at me, a look of complete adoration in his eyes, a look that, while it may seem genuine from any spectators point of view, I know is rehearsed. I smile, like rehearsed, and he carries on to his real part of the speech, the part prior being completely for the Capitol's benefit.

"I also remember, however, seeing your two tributes while watching the recap. I remember seeing Rue, tiny Rue, seeing how strong she was, and knowing she was a fighter. I remember seeing Thresh, seeing how powerful he was, and knowing he was a fighter. Your District is full of honorable, kind people, and Thresh and Rue were no exception. There is never a day that goes by where I don't think of them, wishing they could have still been here today, and, if nothing more, wishing they could have been sent off in a kinder way.

"I remember when Rue died," His eyes start to attain glassiness, glassiness that was not practiced, so I know that whatever heartbreak over Rue he is feeling, it is genuine, " I was heartbroken. Someone so young, so full of life, didn't deserve to die. She deserved to live a long, happy life. She deserved to grow up, and fall in love, and to get married, and have kids, and to be happy.

"You know, she told me about her siblings once. She loved them more than anything; she would've done anything for them. She told me that as long as they were happy, she was happy," He looks around for Rue's family, who is in the front row, and he makes eye contact with every one of her siblings, "So do it. Go be happy. Go live a long life, go fall in love, go have kids, do it for Rue. Live a happy life for Rue."

* * *

**The rest of the speech continues in the next chapter, which will be posted…tomorrow! **

**What do you think of his speech so far, do you think it is something he would have said? **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Light swearing in this chapter, be warned.**

**Review:**

"**I remember when Rue died," His eyes start to attain glassiness, glassiness that was not practiced, so I know that whatever heartbreak over Rue he is feeling, it is genuine, " I was heartbroken. Someone so young, so full of life, didn't deserve to die. She deserved to live a long, happy life. She deserved to grow up, and fall in love, and to get married, and have kids, and to be happy. **

"**You know, she told me about her siblings once. She loved them more than anything; she would've done anything for them. She told me that as long as they were happy, she was happy," He looks around for Rue's family, who is in the front row, and he makes eye contact with every one of her siblings, "So do it. Go be happy. Go live a long life, go fall in love, go have kids, do it for Rue. Live a happy life for Rue."**

* * *

"And Thresh, I didn't know him that well, but I respected him. Respected his courage, his strength, his determination to never play by anyone's rules but his own."

Peeta takes a deep breath, and continues on with his speech he has created to sate the Capitol. To save my life.

He talks about why he believes that no one should die, why everyone should love one another, why love is amazing, and frankly, just spouting utter _bullshit_. At one point, he even talks about a bunny he found that was injured, and how he brought it back to health and set it free because he couldn't bear to see it in pain. I have to refrain myself from bursting out into hysterics at that point, because this part of the speech he has not planned on. I guess he thought that overkill would make me extra-safe, or something.

I guess it worked, because I can see in most of the people's eyes that they aren't even taking him seriously anymore. What at first seemed to be a group of people transfixed by his prose is now a group of people restraining themselves from laughing, rolling their eyes, or just plain leaving the event.

"I can't bear to see anyone in pain. I know how Rue died, and I now know how Thresh did, and it was not okay. I wish they could have had a funeral, or died in their sleep, or something painless to set them free, but the world is not always kind to us. They died tragically, but heroically. And they will not be forgotten. Thank you, District Eleven."

…

I walk of the stage, Katniss in tow. She barely makes it to backstage before she burts out into hysterics.

I would be upset with her for laughing, but seeing Katniss genuinely happy, genuinely _laughing_, it just reminds me all over again of why I fell in love with her.

I wonder what she would think if she knew that story was true.

I remember saving that bunny like it was yesterday. I nursed it back to health in secret, fed it parts of my dinner that I could manage to sneak from the table, and I even tried to be a therapist and coax the bunny into hopping around my room. Of course, the bunny wasn't really that injured, but I liked to tell myself that I was really tangibly helping it.

It left two days after I found it.

…

I finally calm myself down enough to start to think coherently again, when another wave of laughter overtakes me.

If I saw an injured bunny, my thought process would be more along the lines of _dinner_.

Luckily I am not the only one still laughing, Haymitch is guffawing beside me, the bottle of liquor in his hand doing nothing but egging him on.

Peeta stands there, his face red, grinning sheepishly while Haymitch and I laugh ourselves out. Effie looks at about the bursting point to tell me about proper ladylike conduct, but right now I couldn't care less.

I see Portia standing away from us, a small smile on her face. She looks extremely relieved that all has gone according to plan. Effie is around us going off about the time, and how little of it we have to get ready for the banquet tonight. She shoos us out of the room and into the car, so we can go back to the train to get on new clothes and prepare for the banquet tonight.

I tell Effie that I think it is pointless and wasteful to keep changing dressing and ask her what the point of makeup is, and she looks at me like I have just told her I am going to kill her firstborn child.

I'm afraid I've just brought upon myself another three hour lecture.

I'm spared, though, by the fact that Effie has to go redo her makeup in a 'grain color palette'. I stand there mindlessly agreeing with her about how much it would match her outfit, which is another crazy Capitol conconction, apparently 'toned down' for the districts.

I am coerced into changing outfits by Portia, who tells me that it's the outfit she has for me, a soft orange frock with a black sweater and flat shoes, or something Effie will find for me in her closet, which has me running into a room to change.

By the time we are done getting ready, it is time to go to the feast District 11 has prepared for us.

I stay by Peeta's side the whole ride, and the whole way into the Justice Building, never letting go of his hand.

We greet people, we smile, we laugh, we dance, we put on a show for the Capitol cameras watching us. Everything goes just as we planned it, no one doubts that Peeta is in love with me, no one doubts that I am in love with Peeta, no one doubts anything.

Perfect.

We end the night on the train, continuing on to District 10, where we will repeat our speeches and the feast, and we will do the same at Nine, Eight, Seven, and so forth, until we can be back in District 12.

Back home.

…

I am washing up in my bathroom and I can hear the telltale click of my compartment door opening. Katniss must be coming in.

I finish up and walk over to my bed that she has laid down in. She looks so beautiful right now, her hair flowing free around her face and her blinking drowsily. She smiles when she sees me and beckons me into bed.

I lay down next to her and she rests her head on my chest. Her arm wraps itself over my stomach and she settles in, still half asleep.

"Peeta?" she asks, suddenly.

"Hmm?" I respond, stifling a yawn.

"Don't you get them? The nightmares, I mean?" She's perceptive, I'll give her that. Every Victor gets nightmares from their Games now and again, but mine have all but ceased since the threat over Katniss came along. I still get nightmares about the Games, but I haven't had one in weeks, since before the day Katniss came to the bakery.

"Not anymore," I respond, truthfully, "My nightmares now are mostly about losing you."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sorry I'm probably only going to be posting once a day for a while, I'm writing an Odesta one shot called 'The Ocean Carried Her to Me" and beta-ing a fic called "_Dust_" By Littlemissowl. You should go check it out!(: Her writing is _phenomenal!_**

**And the fluff will come in the Capitol, not the lower Districts! I lied, sorry guys!**

**Review:**

"**Don't you get them? The nightmares, I mean," She's perceptive, I'll give her that. Every Victor gets nightmares from their Games now and again, but mine have all but ceased since the threat over Katniss came along. I still get nightmares about the Games, but I haven't had one in weeks, since before the day Katniss came to the bakery. **

"**Not anymore," I respond, truthfully, "My nightmares now are mostly about losing you."**

* * *

The rest of the Victory Tour goes by in a daze, Peeta doing exactly what he is expected to. He gives a speech about the said district's fallen tributes, and concludes his prose with a Capitol worshipping statement. We dance together during the banquets, we eat, we get caught trying to sneak away, we do everything we are supposed to do.

Peeta plays his part perfectly.

No one would doubt that Peeta is just a sappy romantic. He always says things to me on stage that would make any girls heart melt. He professes his love for me in every district in an assortment of ways.

In District 2, he recites a poem about me.

If he says 'Your hair blows in the wind, like you are a Goddess from above, And therefore my dear Katniss, I profess to you my love,' again, he is going to get hurt somewhere the sun doesn't shine, if you get my drift.

It's a lot harder than it looks to play a foolish, giggling girl in front of the cameras. More than once Effie has to tell me to stop cackling, because I look like a witch. I scowl at her, which brings upon me an even longer lecture about how she's heard that if you scowl too much, it will become perpetual.

Haymitch pipes up and tells us that my scowl already is.

…

Our next stop is the Capitol.

I don't know if I can handle it.

Being back in the Capitol will be like reliving the Games all over again, and I can't bear it, I can't, I can't, I can't.

The only source of comfort is knowing that Katniss will be by my side the whole time.

I'm amazed she hasn't blown yet. Sure, she makes snide remarks to Effie, Haymitch, and I daily, but that's just Katniss for you. She hasn't yelled, or screamed, or stormed off yet.

We are on the train to the Capitol, and an attendant announces we will arrive back in four hours. Effie jumps up from her spot at the table, which she so adamantly pointed out was mahogany, and starts gushing about the time and how little of it we have left.

You can hear to collective sigh going around the room.

Despite Katniss' protests, Effie practically drags her from the room to go get ready for the 'big, big day!'

Katniss looks at me, as if begging me to save her, and I give her a smile, feigning innocence. She sticks her tongue out at me and leaves the room with Effie.

Yep, its going to take me a while to get used to this new Katniss.

…

I don't know what's gotten into me lately. I laugh more, smile more, joke around more.

The scariest part is, _I like it_.

I like laughing, and smiling, and having fun. I like it more than I like being serious all the time, I like it a lot more. Part of me wonders what caused this change.

_You fell in love_, a little voice in the back of my head whispers.

I shake myself out of my sappiness-induced stupor.

Get ready, _right._ What am I supposed to do to get ready? _Why_ am I supposed to get ready? Yeah sure, let's spend four hours getting ready for a walk from the train to the car.

I don't understand these Capitol people.

On top of that, I'm also supposed to change between getting off the train and Peeta's speech to the Capitol, and change _again_ between that and the banquet. Three sets of clothes in one night.

I only own three sets of clothes back in District 12.

Portia gives me a dark blue dress, full of swirls and the top part is netted **(A/N: Do you remember the dress Jen wore to the PCA's? That's the one I'm… attempting…to describe.) **It's not horribly uncomfortable, and it is apparently plain and frugal for Capitol standards, but I don't find myself minding as much anymore. Apparently, when you live in dresses for nearly three weeks, you get used to them.

It only takes me in total about an hour to get ready, thanks to Peeta's prep team, and I go back to the sitting room to be with Peeta. He is still sitting on the couch, not having to get ready yet, and he looks so _attractive. _His curly hair is tousled, messy, and a little bit long. His blue eyes are surrounded by his thick, blonde lashes, and his muscular body is outline by a simple white shirt.

I walk over to him, and double check that we are alone. Wouldn't want another sarcastic comment from Haymitch, would we?

I lean down towards him, and he leans up to me. His lips meet mine, and mine meet his. I part my lips slightly to allow his tongue entry, and he complies. A soft moan escapes my lips that I would be embarrassed about in any other situation, but it seems to fuel Peeta on.

I move to sit on his lap, my legs spread and my chest touching his, and knot my hands in his hair. We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, moans escaping both of our lips, moans of contentment.

He moves to lay down on the couch, and I position myself overtop him. We manage to keep kissing the whole time, I'm not quite sure how. One of my hands removes itself from his hair and finds its way to the hem of his shirt, and I tug on it, practically begging him to take it off. I don't know why I do this, I don't, it just feels…right.

We keep kissing, the intensity escalating, the feeling so good I'm not sure I can ever, or will ever feel it again. It is the best feeling in the world, I'm sure of it.

All I can say about the rest of our session is, _well_, I'm going to need a new dress.

**A/N: I sincerely apologize for the quality of the writing in this chapter. I'm absolutely horrid at writing fluff, or implied smut, or whatever that (^) was. I hope it err…satisfied you. (I'm sorry, I'm super awkward with all this fluff stuff!)**

**As always: Review! Tell me what you thought! Loved it? Hated it? Good fluff? Bad fluff? Did the story move to slow for you? Give me your honest opinion, I'll try to take it into account!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Review: **

**We keep kissing, the intensity escalating, the feeling so good I'm not sure I can ever, or will ever feel it again. It is the best feeling in the world, I'm sure of it. **

**All I can say about the rest of our session is, **_**well**_**, I'm going to need a new dress.**

* * *

Effie has a fit when she sees the state of my dress, hair, and makeup. I couldn't care less.

She finds Portia who, luckily, doesn't make a comment to make my cheeks go more scarlet than they are now, and I say a silent thank you the the gods that Haymitch knows of none of this.

Portia gives me a red lacy dress and puts my hair up, and then she tells me I am free to go and do whatever I please.

"Or rather, whoever you please," Says Portia just as I exit the room, her face in a cheeky smile. I blush again, wondering if there is some sort of limit to how many times one can blush in a day, because I'm sure I've exceeded it.

It's really not fair actually, Peeta hasn't gotten any teasing.

And it's not like we really did _it_, by the way.

…

Portia finishes adjusting my suit, and I am allowed to walk out and see Katniss. She looks as beautiful as ever in a short red dress, and she looks relieved to see me. Thank God. I was so worried she would be angry with me for all the teasing she had to endure from everyone, even Portia, from what I've heard.

She smiles at me and I return it. She beckons me closer and I comply, her fingers loop around the belt loops in my pants and I briefly wonder if this is a dream.

She brings her mouth close to my ear, and whispers something indecipherable in my ear in a sexy, low voice.

"What?" I ask, bewildered.

"I said," She repeats, her voice playful, sexy, and downright dangerous, "Never. Again."

She rips away from me and smiles, a daring 'come and get me' kind of smile, and I am pretty sure my mouth is hanging wide open.

This Katniss is so different from the Katniss I fell in love with. Not any better, not any worse, still just as perfect, but different.

…

My playful mood has taken a turn when the train doors open, leaving me with a breathtaking view of the Capitol.

It's beautiful; I'll give them that.

Terribly beautiful.

The city is full of sky high buildings, built out of the shiniest silver I've ever seen, the streets lined with colorful bricks, the buildings colored audacious colors, the grandiose of it threatens to overwhelm me.

If someone came along in a thousand years and saw this city, abandoned and passed the height of its glory, they would say it was beautiful. They would say it was the grandest city ever built by man, with buildings defying gravity and beautiful colors stretching on for miles.

_Unless they saw the people that lived here_, I think. I was expecting lots of Effie's, colorful lipstick and audacious poofy hair, unusual outfits and overdone makeup, but I was not expecting this.

I was expecting, at the very worst, people with zebra striped skin. I can see now that zebra striped skin is a toned down look compared to what I see: Shark teeth, claws, horns, skin pulled so tight it looks scary, people dyed strange colors, eyes all colored in white, pig snouts for noses.

The scariest thing is, this is considered _desirable_.

Any place other than the Capitol, these people would look like terrible misfits, but now I see that here, I am the misfit. Apparently, still looking human is not desirable.

These people are a load of crazies.

…

I practically have to drag Katniss out of the train, her unwillingness to come nearer to these genetically altered freaks plainly visible; I can only hope they take it as nerves for being in the Capitol.

She grabs onto my arm and we walk down the pathway to the car, hearing people call for me, for us, calling for Peeta and his lover, his Katniss, wanting to greet their newest Victor.

We manage to avoid interviews and autograph sessions, being ushered strictly into the car. Katniss makes it in and exhales deeply, seemingly relieved.

"You'll get used to them, I promise," I tell her, though this is a complete lie. I'm still not used to the sight of these people, I'm just better at hiding my distaste towards them.

"How?" She asks, doubtfully, "They're so…freaky."

"I know, trust me, I know," I respond, " Just try not to look straight at them, it helps."

Katniss nods absentmindedly, her mind already moving onto another topic. I see President Snow's mansion, the venue where we will be holding the feast and the speech tonight. The car stops near the front entrance and I hop out, opening the door for Katniss and helping her out. I know she doesn't need it, but I also know it's what the Capitol wants.

It's all about appearances here.

…

We walk into a big mansion, bigger than probably the whole town square back in District 12. Peeta squeezes my hand tightly, as if giving me emotional support.

If anyone needs emotional support right now, it's him.

We keep walking through the front doors, through the '_foyer'_ (It's basically just a huge waste of space at the front of the house that could be used as something much more practical), and finally, we make our way into the section of the house that the President has provided for us.

Peeta and I settle down in his room, splaying ourselves on the bed with our shoes still on like lazy, inconsiderate houseguests. We spend the next half an hour talking, laughing, playing like children.

I could stay here forever, as long as Peeta is with me.

A Capitol attendant comes in and hands Peeta a slip of paper. He reads it, hands it to me, and leaves the room.

I look at the slip, at the words etched into it.

_Peeta Mellark,_

_Please join President Corialanus Snow in the sitting room immediately._

That's all the slip says.

…

I walk to the sitting room, knowing whatever is in store for me is not good. If President Snow wants to talk to me in private, this was a sure fire way to make me nervous for it.

I've never heard of a Victor having a private conversation with the President before the Victory speech, but then again, I've never heard of a _foyer_, so I guess I'm out of practice with a lot of the Capitol customs.

"Peeta," A stern voice from behind me calls. I whip around and find myself face to face with President Snow.

"Hello, President Snow," I say, trying to sound formal and respectful.

"Please, call me Corialanus," is his response, I think he's trying to be hospitable, but I can't really tell.

"I'm sure your wondering why I've called you here, Mr. Mellark. And I'm sure you're a smart enough man to realize it might have to do with the little _arrangement_ we had."

I hadn't even considered that. We'd played our parts perfectly, never stepping a toe out of line. We had done everything he asked, everything. I had done everything to keep Katniss safe.

"You did well, Mr. Mellark," He says to me, taking a dramatic pause, and my breathing relaxes, knowing Katniss is safe, safe from anything the Capitol can do to her, safe from having to deal with them ever again, safe to go live a life back in District 12. He finishes his pause and continues speaking.

"But not well enough."

* * *

A/N: "But not well enough." MWAHAHAH :D

Oh, and you should watch the Bill Engvall Show, it's _really_ funny!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: As always, go read **_**Dust**_** by Littlemissowl! I promise you'll love it! Paste this onto the end of the fanfic home page: s/8356517/1/Dust  
**

**Oh, and THANK YOU GUYS ALL SO MUCH! I'm at the better half of 100 reviews, and at 10,000 hits!:D Crazy, right? I never even thought of writing a fic until about a week ago, and now look! I have readers in like...Uruguay and Russia! So. Flipping. Cool. LET ME LOVE YOU!**

**Review:**

"**You did well, Mr. Mellark," He says to me, taking a dramatic pause, and my breathing relaxes, knowing Katniss is safe, safe from anything the Capitol can do to her, safe from having to deal with them ever again, safe to go live a life back in District 12. He finishes his pause and continues speaking.**

"**But not well enough."**

* * *

My world comes crashing down in one sentence. _What will they do to her?_ Will they hurt her, kill her, torture her? All the unspeakable things the Capitol can do to her come crashing through my brain at once.

"But…but I did everything you asked. I did _more_. How, How? How could she not be safe after that! I did _everything_! Everything!" I'm shouting now, but I don't care, I don't care, I don't care.

I don't care about anything except Katniss.

"Yes, Peeta, you did. You did everything we asked, it is true. But it wasn't enough," His words are careful, as if he has practiced them to eliminate any extraneous words, "You see, Mr. Mellark, you created a spark."

I focus my attention on him now, the dominant part of my brain focused on what he has to say.

"A spark is fine, as long at it is contained. The people of the Districts did not believe your performance as a fool, however, because you were so _poetic_. So _eloquent_," He is practically spitting out words now.

"Let me ask you, Peeta, why do we have a Victor?" His voice is slow, precise, and he doesn't wait for my response before continuing, "Hope; it is the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective; a lot of hope is dangerous.

"So you see, I will give you hope. I will show you how dangerous it is. A little hope is a Victor, you see. The chance to become one, rather. And your dear Katniss, well, let's just say she is your little hope."

With that, he walks from the room.

President Snow's speech runs through my mind.

_Hope; it is the only thing stronger than fear. _

_I will give you hope. _

_Hope is the chance to become a Victor. _

_Katniss is your little hope. _

And suddenly, I have a very good idea of who the female tribute for the Quell just may be.

…

I wait in Peeta's room for just under twenty minutes before he returns. His face is white and he walks robotically, as if trying to devoid himself of any emotion.

He is walking stiffly, his eyes focused on some nonexistent point in the distance, and he completely ignores me and sits on the bed. I walk over to him, slide down next to him, and insert my hand into his.

"Peeta? Peeta, are you alright? What's wrong? Peeta?" My voice is unsteady and uncertain, and he slowly turns his head to look at me, his eyes rimmed in read as he speaks his next few words shakily.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss."

That's it? That's all I get? That could mean anything…but I know it doesn't. I know _exactly_ what it means. I know why he's acting like he can barely look at me, like he wants to crawl into a hole and die on the spot.

We didn't do it well enough.

President Snow probably sent him over to sign my death certificate.

"I'm so sorry Katniss, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault!" His voice is breaking, yet it is also rising to a yell, tears now spilling out of his eyes. His hands are shaking, balled into fists, and he stands up, "We didn't do it. We couldn't. I caused a spark, and then I included you, and then you were in danger, and now you're—"

I cut him off, because I can't stand him saying the word _dead_. I know it's crazy, but I feel like it's avoidable as long as we acknowledge it. I've already accepted the fact that I'm going to die, and I'm okay with it.

I need him to give Prim something.

"Peeta, Peeta. Look at me, God damn it!" I'm shouting right back at him, because he's acting like he can't hear me, and that's not fair, it's not fair at all, "Peeta. Yes. I've got it. I know what's going to happen to me. But you have to listen to me Peeta. Are you listening?"

He nods his head in response, and I grab his wrists and squeeze them.

"Tell Prim I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never got to see her grow older, grow into a beautiful young woman, tell her I'm sorry I'll never get to yell at her boyfriend for bringing her home late, or stand by her altar at her wedding. Tell her I love her, can you do that, Peeta? Will you do that, for me?"

Peeta looks visibly upset, and he keeps trying to cut me off, but I won't let him, I can't, I can't, I have to tell _him_ goodbye too.

"And tell Gale I'm sorry. Tell Gale that he was my best friend in the world, tell him how much he means to me, tell him that he better damn well take care of Prim."

Peeta shakes his head, and he keeps repeating my name in an urgent undertone.

"Katniss, Katniss, Katniss?"

"What, Peeta? What!" I really don't care for any more _I'm sorry's_ from him, I've heard enough. I know he did his best, I did my best, we both did everything we could.

"They're not going to kill you, Katniss."

I should be happy right now, right? All I feel is an overwhelming sense of confusion, because Peeta should sound happy, ecstatic. His voice is still flat and he is still trying to avoid my gaze, and I don't know what to think.

If they're not going to kill me, what are they going to do? What _can_ they do? _They can torture you, _a voice in the back of my head whispers. I tell it to shut up.

"They're going to reap you."

* * *

**A/N: Peeta induced cliffhanger! Mwahaha! Katniss, in the Quell! But wait, there's more! **

**The plot twists are coming, the plot twists are coming! **

**Thoughts on this chapter?**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: As always, go check out **_**Dust**_** by littlemissowl! I'm going to shamelessly promote it on every chapter, you know, because I love you Bri bby3 But seriously, though, it's **_**really**_** good. **

**Review:**

"**They're not going to kill you, Katniss."**

**I should be happy right now, right? All I feel is an overwhelming sense of confusion, because Peeta should sound happy, ecstatic. His voice is still flat and he is still trying to avoid my gaze, and I don't know what to think. **

**If they're not going to kill me, what are they going to do? What **_**can**_** they do? **_**They can torture you, **_**a voice in the back of my head whispers. I tell it to shut up. **

"**They're going to reap you."**

To be honest, I should feel more worried right now. But, in fact, all I feel is relief. Relief that I can go back to my loved ones, relief that I have a one in twenty-four chance of living, relief that I have _time_.

No, I never will be able to stand next to Prim as she says her vows, or watch Posy grow up, or teach Rory how to shoot a bow like I can, but I can say _goodbye_.

A part of me was expecting this, subconsciously. I knew the Capitol did things to make their drama more juicy, and I had actually thought about it as a viable option. What could be more tragic for Capitol viewers than their star-crossed lovers, doomed, a Victor and a tribute.

The ultimate television.

…

We are standing under the stage that I was supposed to give my speech on. Per President Snow's request, however, I will just be reading the card for the Quell.

I am not allowed to open the seal on the envelope until I am up on stage, live, in front of the whole country, with Katniss by my side. I don't see how they can manipulate what the envelope says, seeing as it was written seventy-five years ago. I know they can rig the reaping bowl so Katniss' name will be picked, but what twist will be thrown in with her?

What kind of horrible thing will she have to endure?

We stand on platforms that will rise up to the audience, and it reminds to all too much of the Games, and I don't like it, I don't like it at all.

I feel a panic attack coming on, until I am on the stage and realize that this is in fact not the Hunger Games, and I calm down. Until I remember what I'm doing. What I'm reading. What will happen.

I clear my throat and start to open the envelope, my fingers fumbling, Katniss at my side.

"To honor that no one, of any age, was safe from the rebels, and that numerous Capitol citizens were killed by them, of every age," my breath hitches as I read what comes next, "We will have a separate Hunger Games for each age genre eligible, twenty-four twelve year-olds, thirteen year-olds, so forth. Each in a separate arena; each in a fight to the death."

…

As I stand beside Peeta, my reality kicks in. I think of Prim, she is in her own category, her own category of thirteen year-olds, and I can't save her. My only solace is in the fact that she only has two slips, two slips in thousands. _But so do all the other thirteen year-olds_, I remind myself,_ still, the chances of her being picked are miniscule._

I still can't shake the horror from my face, but I know I need to. 168 tributes. 7 Victors. These are the biggest Games yet.

I can see the deafening roar of the Capitol audience, their excitement, _seven times as many Games this year_, they'll say. _Seven times as much fun_, they'll say.

I can see Peeta trying to remain calm next to me, trying to devoid himself of any emotion. He squeezes my hand and we walk off the stage together, managing to act unfazed by this turn of events until we are alone.

"Katniss?" He asks, quietly, "I'm so sorry, I had no idea…so many people, _children_, its sick. It's…it's horrifying."

"I know Peeta, I know," He looks so upset he's almost on the verge of tears. _Of course. _Peeta is going to be a mentor next year, he's going to have to face all these children, fourteen of them, keep all these children safe…keep _me_ safe.

I didn't realize until now that being a mentor is just as hard as being a tribute.

…

Katniss and I are getting ready for the Victory banquet tonight. We have to act as if everything is normal, as if she will not become a tribute, as if we want to be there.

She has on a beautiful gold dress with cutouts on the side, her hair is up in a bun, and she looks _so_ beautiful. Sometimes I actually have to stop and remind myself that she's mine, that this isn't all a dream.

Though I suppose it could also be classified as a nightmare.

She remains surprisingly calm throughout the whole night, though I know her telltale signs and can see that she is fed up with the Capitol citizens. She smiles, she greets people, though she does stay quiet while I have conversations with some important residents.

At one point during the night, veteran Victors Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason even make an appearance. Finnick comes over to us, and Katniss does nothing to hide her distaste. He seems unfazed, however, and pulls her out onto the dancefloor.

I do what is polite and I offer Johanna my hand.

We dance, quietly, not saying a word to each other for at least five minutes, but when a slow song comes on, she rests her head on my shoulder and speaks to me in an urgent whisper.

"Peeta, look. Just do what they want, okay? Just do it, and don't ask why. If you don't…if you don't, then you're in some serious shit."

Not exactly a kindly worded eloquent speech, but I would expect nothing less from Johanna, who is known for her tough persona.

"What?" I ask her. I think I might have a grip on what is going on, but I'm not sure, and I don't like what my mind has come up with.

"God, you are dull," She responds, her head still on my chest, her lips barely moving, I can practically see her rolling her eyes, " Your family, your friends, your girl. They're in danger, got it? Just do what the Capitol wants, if you want your loved ones, well, not delivered to you in a box."

Oh. _Oh_. I was right, as much as I was hoping for myself to be wrong.

"Too late," I say bitterly.

"What?" It is her turn to be confused now, and I answer her question in a gruff whisper.

"The berries," I say, "The Quell. Katniss."

I don't need to explain any further as she fully comprehends what I'm saying. She turns her head up and looks at me, her eyes piercing mine. She can tell what I'm saying, that Katniss, fiery Katniss, is going into the Games.

"I think, Peeta, that might be exactly what we need."

**A/N: What does Johanna mean? Does it have anything to do with the –gasp- rebels? **

**As always, what did you think? Love it, hate it? Tell me, I'll try to take your opinion into account!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: As always, go check out **_**Dust**_** by ****Littlemissowl****!**

**Review:**

**The berries," I say, "The Quell. Katniss."**

**I don't need to explain any further as she fully comprehends what I'm saying. She turns her head up and looks at me, her eyes piercing mine. She can tell what I'm saying, that Katniss, fiery Katniss, is going into the Games.**

"**I think, Peeta, that might be exactly what we need."**

* * *

The train ride home this time is much less lonely. But much more heartbreaking.

I have Katniss, yes. But I will lose her.

I know if she were a normal tribute, she would have a fair chance of winning. More than fair, actually. She would be the favorite to win, the top contender. But I know in my heart she won't. They won't let her. They want the most dramatic show ever.

What could glue the audience to the edge of their seats more than the life of one half of the star-crossed lovers on her death bed?

Perhaps watching the other half after her death.

I'm so lost in thought I don't even register Katniss walking in the compartment at first.

"Peeta? Hello? You there?" When she gets no response, she whacks me in the head with her hand.

"Peeta!"

"Ow! Oh, uh, sorry! Sorry! I'm sorry!" I put my hands up in mock defense and pretend to act fragile.

She laughs and sits in the chair next to me.

"We're ten minutes away, Peeta."

Well, I sure do remember what, or rather _who_, I was thinking about the last time I was ten minutes away from District 12 on a train.

…

We're going home. I'm going home.

To Prim. To my mother. To _Gale_.

Gale.

I have avoided telling Peeta about Gale and me, and what happened between us, what he told me. I feel like it's a secret that needs safe guarding, needs to be buried deep, where it can never be found.

I hope he doesn't confront me about it.

But I know he will.

I enjoy my last ten minutes of solace, of peace, before we have to get off of the train. I know there will be press waiting for us at the station, but I have been ordered to ignore them.

I want to get back to Prim so badly, I miss her so much. My one comfort is in the fact that Peeta won, so she will have food while I am gone.

I haven't seen her in three weeks. Three weeks seems like an eternity, almost.

Peeta came home, we had never even talked. Three weeks later, I was boarding a train with him.

I boarded a train with him. Three weeks later, I am coming back to District 12 with certain death looming over my head.

Funny how much can change in three weeks.

…

The train rolls into the station, and I take a peek out of the window. There are only a sparse few photographers here, and they already look bored. Who wouldn't be? Three weeks straight of the star-crossed lovers on the front page would bore anyone.

Katniss, Haymitch, and I step out onto the platform, and she sees her family. She runs over and hugs Prim, then hugs her mother, then hugs Prim again.

I stand there for probably twenty seconds before I notice my family, my dad smiling ear to ear. I run up to him and he pulls me into a hug, his smile not at all dissipating. My mother looks disinterested, my brothers both pat my shoulder, and we walk towards the bakery.

Before I go, I steal one look back at Katniss, and she is hugging Gale.

I know I shouldn't be jealous, but I am. I know she doesn't care for him like _that_, but I can't help wanting what they have. Wanting to have known Katniss for years, spent time with her for years.

…

I've hugged Prim probably twenty times now, but I don't even care. This is the longest I've ever been away from her, and I could barely stand it.

"Little duck, you look so much bigger! How dare you have grown up while I was gone! I haven't seen you in three weeks!" She knows I am kidding, but she plays along anyways.

"It tends to happen, Katniss. And, you know, I've seen you almost every day. You and Peeta are getting pretty comfortable together, huh?" She playfully nudges my shoulder, and I briefly wonder what happened while I was gone.

What happened to the shy, fragile Prim? She seems so…open. She's even joking around with me about Peeta. I cock my eyebrow, and she gives me an 'I'll explain later' look.

"Catnip," I turn around and see Gale in his hunting gear, evidently just getting back from the woods, "I thought I'd missed you."

He crushed me in the biggest, strongest hug I've probably ever been in.

"I missed you too, Gale," I say, smiling.

We spend the rest of the day in the woods, hunting, talking, laughing. Gale can make me laugh in a way that no one else can, not even Peeta.

I mentally slap myself for comparing Gale to Peeta.

…

I walk back to my house in the Victor's Village, not really sure what my relationship with Katniss is going to be like. I've been with her constantly for the last three weeks, it almost feels unnatural not having her by my side. Will she stay the night at my house? Will I see her every day?

My thoughts of Katniss are interrupted when I see a letter on the table, marked with the omnipotent Capitol seal. I'm barely even registering anything around me, so I don't even register the pain of walking into the corner of a table for at least ten seconds, the letter has all my attention.

_Dear Mr. Peeta Mellark,_

_We are pleased to inform you that the first portion of the Quarter Quell will take place in precisely two months, with each one occurring precisely one week after the finish of the last. _

_The Games will occur in descending order, with the 18 year olds to be the first. You will be staying at the Capitol for the entire time the Games occur, we are sorry if this provides you with any inconveniences. _

_Sincerely, _

_President Snow_

Only a few important words register in my mind, the true maleficence hiding itself within the eloquence. _Two months. Descending Order. Staying at the Capitol. Inconveniences. _

I know Games usually take two weeks, with one week preparing for it. That equals one Quell a month.

Katniss has, at most, three months.

* * *

**A/N: No answer yet to what Johanna meant by "I think, Peeta, that might be exactly what we need." Actually, I probably won't be coming back to that for quite a while…**

**Anyways…penny for your thoughts?**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: As always, go check out Dust by Littlemissowl!**

**Review:**

**Only a few important words register in my mind, the true maleficence hiding itself within the eloquence. **_**Two months. Descending Order. Staying at the Capitol. Inconveniences. **_

**I know Games usually take two weeks, with one week preparing for it. That equals one Quell a month. **

**Katniss has, at most, three months. **

* * *

"Katniss Everdeen."

Though I knew it was coming, hearing Effie say my name still sends a pang of instilled fear through me. I walk up to the stage, making sure to keep my face devoid of emotion, because I know that within a few hours pictures of me will be all over the media.

Oh, the tragedy.

I'm sure there will be a sparse few Capitol citizens who will actually mourn me, mourn for Peeta, but the majority of them will just be excited for the drama.

I keep my mouth sealed in a tight line, my eyes clear from any water, as the male tribute is called.

Obadiah Stanford is called. I don't know who he is, which is a relief. His eyes are wet with tears, and it is evident that he didn't expect to get called.

_Typical for a townie with no tesserae_, I think.

I told my whole family about what was going to happen, Gale included, so they aren't at all shocked. In fact, we said our goodbyes before the Reaping. Prim tearfully, Gale stoically, my mother distantly. I made her promise she wouldn't leave Prim, not like she did when dad died.

I made Gale promise to take care of Prim, of my family, even though I know it's not fair. I know he can't add on two more names on his list of people to feed, but he has to. He _has_ to. I know Peeta will help him too, Peeta wouldn't let my family go hungry.

_Peeta_.

I haven't seen him in a month, since he boarded the train with two eighteen-year-old seam tributes. They both died at the Cornucopia. I don't even remember their names, as horrible as that is.

We are ushered onto the train, and a wave of nostalgia hits me. I've never been on this train without…

I walk to the compartment that was his room and sit on the bed. I've decided that I'm going to sleep here, because this room reminds me of Peeta.

I walk out of the compartment, to where I know Effie will be waiting, probably to scold me for something I don't even remember doing, I'm not even paying attention to where I'm going, and I trip over a pair of large feet in front of me.

"Oh, sorry!" I say, knowing Effie will have my head if I don't apologize. I look up and see the one person I would never expect to be here.

Peeta.

…

Well, I guess my idea to surprise her on the train kind of got thrown in the trash.

I really don't even care, though, as long as I get to see her. It's been a month, _a month_, since I've seen her last, and, if it's possible, I think she's gotten even more beautiful.

"Peeta!" She says, shocked, "What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Why are you just standing there grinning? Peeta!"

I realize I probably look insanely stupid right now, standing and smiling at her like some dumb buffoon, but I can't find it within myself to care.

She launches her lips onto mine and that's when I lose all sense of thought. The only thing I can register is Katniss, her lips on mine, her hands tangled in my hair.

"I missed you too," I say, laughing, when she pulls away from the kiss.

I try to imagine this situation if it were different, if she were not a tribute and I had not just come back from witnessing Kira and Celton's death. I knew that they weren't going to win, but still, they were good people.

They didn't deserve to die like they did.

I look at Katniss, knowing that she's going to be going into an arena with all her fellow tributes and a microscopic, if even that, chance of survival.

I'd take her place in a heartbeat. Of course, I'd never win, but I'd rather die for her than live without her.

…

Peeta seems lost in thought, so I lead him to the compartment, him walking absentmindedly behind me. I know I should give him my letter, the one I wrote to him a couple weeks ago saying goodbye, and that I love him.

He thinks that I think I have a fair chance of winning. But I know I don't. Haymitch told me the truth as soon as I was in a room without Peeta, about the Capitol, about how they want their 'show'. I know I don't have any chance, none at all. And I'm okay with that.

I can't bring myself to ruin our reunion like that, however, so I just opt to cuddling with him in our bed.

"Why are you here, Peeta?" I ask, hoping I don't sound accusatory, "Err…how?"

"I charmed some very asinine Capitol attendants into letting me on the train back at the Capitol," He says, "Probably not a way to get on the Capitol's good side now that I think about it, but who really cares?"

I laugh, and he joins in. I wish we could just freeze this moment and live in it forever, just me and him.

…

Effie calls us for dinner not twenty minutes after we've settled in. I sit up, expecting Katniss to do the same, but she stays down. I look over at her, and just like I thought, she's asleep.

I don't want to wake her from her peacefulness, but I know Effie will probably have an aneurism if we don't make it to dinner on time. I shake awake a very grumpy and frazzled Katniss, and we walk to dinner together, hand in hand.

We sit through dinner, lamb stew, pretending to listen intently to Effie's story about how fur underwear is totally 'in' in the Capitol right now. Katniss tries to choke the growing smile of amusement on her face, but with little success.

She ends up laughing and trying to pull it off as a thinly veiled cough, but her acting is so deficient that I start laughing too, and pretty soon, so does Obadiah. Obadiah was a boy in my year at school, from town, but he was always too weak to play on any teams, and too shy to approach anyone, so he was left on his own.

I feel bad for him, because I know his fate won't be a happy one. He is not strong enough to win, and even if he were, he is not handsome or charming enough to get sponsors.

After dinner, Katniss and I make our way back to our compartment, and she starts giggling profusely. I think she may have had one to many a glass of wine, because if there's one thing I know about Katniss, it's that she doesn't giggle.

I look at where she's pointing, and I see it.

_The couch. _

The couch we were caught on, getting pretty close to, you know, _that_.

I laugh too, remembering the look of horror on Effie's face when she caught us, remembering what Portia said to Katniss, remembering the time before all this happened.

It feels good to laugh. My last month has been filled with sober faces, death, and crazy Capitol antics. I'm thinking about Kira and Celton when I hear Katniss' voice ringing out from behind me.

"You know," She says, raising her eyebrows, "We never did finish what happened last time."

"Nope," I say, and I lay down on the couch, beckoning her to me, "We never did."

* * *

**A/N: Perceive that last statement how you will, I like to make it open to interpretation for people who feel uncomfortable about lemons. **

**Is it just me or does my writing seem a little off? I'm not very happy with this chapter, but I'm just waiting for the Games, mwahahah!:D **

**What are your thoughts on this chapter?**


	20. Chapter 20

**As always, go and check out **_**Dust**_** by ****Littlemissowl****!**

**Review:**

**"You know," She says, raising her eyebrows, "We never did finish what happened last time."**

**"Nope," I say, and I lay down on the couch, beckoning her to me, "We never did."**

* * *

We arrive in the Capitol to an obnoxious amount of press. Word got around that Peeta hopped on a train to greet me, I guess. There are at least a hundred women screaming their love for him, he smiles good-naturedly and squeezes my hand, and I can't be thankful enough.

Even after all this time, publicity still makes me uneasy. I practically cling to Peeta all the way to the training center, where we will be staying. I feel bad for Obadiah, because I know he has never been here before, and that he has no one to comfort him.

Peeta has to leave me and Obadiah in the remake center, and he laughs to himself on the way out. _I wonder what that's about. _I am greeted by pink zebra-stripe guy, and his two accomplices in his ostentatious Capitol accent, and he leads me off to a special area labeled 'District 12'.

…

A few hours after Obadiah finds his way up to the District 12 floor, the elevator opens to a very unhappy looking Katniss. She walks right past me, trying to make her point. Unfortunately, she doesn't know what room she's in, thus making her point of storming to her room much less effective.

I laugh a little, causing Katniss to shoot me a glare that could probably kill.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" I ask, feigning innocence.

"You wouldn't know," She says, still refusing to look me in the eye, "Obadiah finished what…three hours ago? Guys get it way easier. It's not fair."

She crosses her arms, and I see a glint of pink nail polish. I can't control my laughter any longer. I point to her fingers and she shoots me an exasperated glare.

"It was done against my will," She says, and I can't take it, because she just looks so adorable pouting with her arms crossed and I pull her into a hug.

"I'm sure," I say. She wraps her arms around me too and rests her head against my chest, it feels like the concave was put there just for her, and I want to keep her here forever.

But I can't. I'm faced now more than ever with the harsh reality of the Games, of Katniss going to her imminent death.

…

I'm woken the next morning at 9:00 A.M. by Peeta, who is in bed beside me. He tells me that I am supposed to be down at the training center by 10:00, and that I should eat some breakfast.

"Yes, sir," I say, obstinacy in my voice as I get out of bed and head to the bathroom to get ready. I see a shower, something I've never used except on the Victory Tour, and I see it's plethora of buttons and decide to give it a go.

Twenty excruciating minutes later I step out, pretty sure I've scalded myself from head to toe. I wasn't sure what the buttons did, so I pressed them all, and ended up having to jump from foot to foot as the temperature switched from hot to cold every two seconds.

Well, at least I'm awake now.

Someone has set out a pair of clothes for me to get changed into, and I change in the bedroom, seeing as Peeta has already gone to breakfast. I'm grateful to whoever provided me with a comfortable black shirt and pants, embedded with the number twelve on them.

Much easier to walk around in than a dress, I must say.

I hear voices coming from down the hall, and I walk towards them. I see Peeta sloppily eating his French toast, Haymitch trying to down some liquor, and Effie looking absolutely disgusted at the both of them.

Peeta sees me walk in, and his face breaks out into a grin. He beckons me over, and I sit in the chair next to him.

"Morning, sunshine," He says, a playful tone to his voice.

I playfully punch his arm.

…

_Ow_.

Katniss can pack a punch, I'm certain of that. I know it will bruise, even if she only meant it to be playful.

She grabs a plateful of food and joins me back at the table. During this whole occurrence, Haymitch is looking at us with his eyebrows shot up. I'm hoping against hope that he doesn't make some snide remark because that might just blow Katniss over the top.

She's not a morning person, but I'd think waking up in the Capitol with only a week to the Games might have something to do with her current mood.

It's hard. Per her request, I haven't prepared any 'tearful goodbye' for her, in fact she doesn't want me to say goodbye to her before she heads to the launch room. She wants me to say 'see you later', even though I know it's not true.

…

I have to spend the day training with all the other tributes. I see two very intimidating looking tributes from District two, a very scary looking boy from six, and a girl from seven who is probably taking the Johanna Mason approach. I don't think she was told that it would not be believable if she has tattoos all over her body.

I head over to the knot tying station, which doesn't seem to be much of a popular hit. The instructor there seems happy enough to have a visitor, and eagerly tells me about lots of types of knots for many situations.

After about an hour, I have at least ten of them down, and decide to move to the edible food section. I ace the test on foods that can and cannot be eaten, and decide that I should be good in that category.

I hear shouting behind me, and look to see Obadiah in a match with the scary District 2 boy. I can't hear exactly what they're fighting about, but I'm surprised Obadiah is even fighting. He always seemed quiet and shy to me. While he is a good five inches taller than me, he still looks dwarfed next to the District 2 boy, who name I later learn to be Amon.

I inch closer until I am able to make out some of the words being said in their yelling match. I hear Obadiah yelling the words 'worthless piece of scum' and Amon shouting back that Obadiah is just a 'poor, underfed slum boy'.

_Oh_.

I've heard that the people of the richer Districts give the poorer ones a hard time, but apparently it stuck a nerve in Obadiah. I see our trainer, Atala, coming to break up the match with several avoxes.

I can still see Obadiah and Amon fuming, however, but now held back. They are forced to shake hands and move on, and unfortunately Amon walks over in my direction.

"You got yourself a batshit crazy partner, Everdeen, you know that?" His voice is nasally, and he has a superior tone to it that makes me annoyed.

"Whatever," I say, not really in the mood to defend Obadiah, but not in the mood to stand up to Amon either.

"I see you're just as charming as you were on TV during the Victory Tour," He says sarcastically, "Tell me, how did a slum girl like yourself manage to score the newest Victor? Because it clearly wasn't your looks."

I walk away from him before I do something stupid that will get me in trouble, and I hear him talking and laughing with his fellow careers about me. I usually wouldn't care about this kind of stuff, but talking about Peeta struck a nerve. I hear him whistle behind me and all my resolve to not do anything rash has snapped. I am standing near the archery station, so I do what feels natural and I grab a bow and arrow.

Amon is standing facing away from me, holding a boxing glove in his hand. I take the arrow, string it, and aim it at the glove in a matter of seconds. It hits dead center.

Amon looks up at me, shock evident on his face, and I can hardly contain my glee. The look on his face is so dumbstruck, I want to burst out laughing.

"How's that for a slum girl?"

* * *

**Thoughts? **

**I have plans for the next, say, six or seven chapters, (on how to end them at least) mwahaha! If I can fit it in, I'm going to have a cliffhanger bigger than ever before on this story. **

**So I fit in the Katniss-goes-rebellious-and-shoots-arrow-at-person in this chapter instead of the chapter in front of the Gamemakers, but that just leaves room for her to do something stupid there, too. :D**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: As always, go check out **_**Dust**_** by ****littlemissowl****. **

**Review:**

"**How's that for a slum girl?" **

* * *

I walk out of the training center and ride the elevator back up to the twelfth floor. I step out of the elevator, not really thinking, and I run into Peeta.

"Katniss, hey…Wait, what are you doing here? Training isn't even closed to finished…" Peeta looks extremely confused, and I can't blame him. He doesn't look very prepared to see anyone right now, seeing as he's only wearing boxers.

I burst out laughing.

"Nice outfit," I say through the laughter, hoping to break some of the tension for what I have to tell him. I rush through the words, hoping he won't be able to decipher them, "Oh, and I kind of shot an arrow at another Tribute."

With that I start to run to my room.

Unfortunately, I don't make it very far before Peeta grabs my arm and turns me around.

"What?! Katniss, why? Actually, never mind why…did you hurt him?" Peeta seems panicked. What could the Capitol do to me? Kill me? I'm already going to die anyways. Might as well go out with a bang.

"Well, I didn't exactly aim _for_ him, I aimed for the glove he was holding. Don't worry, he's not impaled with an arrow…though I really wanted to."

Peeta doesn't find this nearly as amusing as I do.

"Katniss, oh, what did you do?!" Peeta says, sitting on the couch and rubbing his temples, he almost looks…angry. I'm scared, because I've never really seen an angry Peeta, I wasn't really sure if he had the capability to be anything but happy until now.

"Do you have a death wish Katniss?! You just made sure that he's going to go after you in the Games…he's bigger than you! He'll kill you in an instant!"

Peeta's upset now and so am I. I have the right to do whatever I want, and Peeta can't yell at me for it.

"I'm going to die anyways Peeta. We both know that. Stop pretending that you think I might win, because I know I'm not going to. I'm going to die, and you're going to have to go back to the District and live with it!" My voice cracks in the last sentence and I have to look away from him.

It's stupid, but I feel like if I didn't admit it out loud, then maybe it wouldn't be true, but now that I did, I feel like I've just signed my death warrant. Peeta looks up, and I see that his eyes are red-rimmed. Great. Now on top of mad at me he's going to try to comfort me, which is probably worse. I don't need to be coddled.

"Who told you?" His voice is weak and broken, and I want to feel bad for him, I want to so badly, but I can't.

"It doesn't matter," I say, my voice flat, but it quickly escalates into a shout, " What matters is that you tried to keep that from me. You had no right, no right!"

"I know," he says, looking down at the ground.

_What_?

"Well then why did you?" I ask, still not being polite to him. He doesn't deserve it.

"To protect you."

"I don't need protection," I say, practically spitting out the words, "I can take care of myself. To be honest, if anyone needs protection, it's you."

I know I shouldn't be saying this, what I'm telling him, but I'm mad and I can't help it. I continue on, my tone bitter.

"It's a wonder you even won the Games, really. All you're good for is frosting things. I don't even know how you managed to stay alive in the Games, dumb luck I guess."

Peeta looks on the verge of tears now. _Weak_. Part of me already feels terrible for saying those things, those private things I tried to banish from my head when the thoughts popped in, but another part of me is still angry at him and wants to lash out more.

I turn around and escape to my room before I can cause any more damage.

…

"It's a wonder you even won the Games, really. All you're good for is frosting things. And baking. I don't even know how you managed to stay alive, dumb luck I guess."

Katniss' tone is bitter, her eyes glaring at me, and I can feel my heart breaking more and more with every word. I had thought them to myself before, but I never knew Katniss actually felt that way. She felt that I was weak, worthless, stupid.

She storms away and I don't follow her. Not yet. This is probably the first time in my entire life I haven't been desperately chasing after her as she eludes me.

_Dumb luck_, she said. That's how I won. _I'm not good for anything besides frosting cakes. _

The bad part is, I know it's true.

Still hurts, though.

I decide after about ten minutes of moping that I should go check on her, make sure she hasn't done anything rash, so I knock on the door to our room, which is locked.

"Katniss? Katniss? You there?"

Something heavy hits the door, and I'm assuming it's Katniss throwing something at it. I know her though, and this doesn't faze me.

"Let me in, Katniss."

She makes a sort of grunting 'ugh'-ish noise and throws something else at the door.

"Go away, Peeta."

"I don't want to go away," I'm trying to conceal my laughter during these words because she just sound so much like a five-year old, "You know, I think I'll just firmly plant myself outside the door and wait for you to open it. You'll have to, eventually."

She opens the door about an hour later, looking very unhappy.

"You still had no right," She says, positioning herself on the bed.

"I know," I say, carefully. I have to pick and choose words very precisely right now, "You're right."

She looks at me like I told her I want to go sacrifice a child.

"I'm what?" She says, astonished.

"Right. I shouldn't have kept it form you, I just…I just wanted you to be happy. Well, as happy as possible for the next week. I wanted you to have hope…and I just couldn't face it. I couldn't really face the thought of you…you know. I felt like if you didn't know, it wouldn't happen. I know it was wrong, and I'm sorry."

She looks at me, a look of wonder in her eyes.

"You, Peeta Mellark, are maybe the sweetest but most stupid person ever in existence."

"Thank you?" I say, kind of unsure on how to respond to that.

She scoots closer to me, like she's trying to show me that she forgives me but won't say it, and I'll accept it. I'd accept being slapped in the face if it meant she woudn't be mad at me anymore.

"I'm sorry too," She says, her voice timid, "About what I said earlier. I didn't mean it. I was just…you know…angry. I guess what I meant was that no one expected someone like you—"

She's getting flustered and confused, and I'm confused too, because where's this going and what's the point she's even trying to make?

She takes a deep breath and continues.

"Sorry, badly phrased. Someone…good…to win the Games."

_Good_? Plently of good people have won the Games. There was Finnick, he was _good_ with a trident, Johanna, she was a _good_ actress, Haymitch, he was a _good_ strategizer.

"Good?"

"Yeah. You know, like…not corrupted. You stayed a good person through the Games and you really didn't kill anyone…except Marvel…but that was because of Rue. But you're not corrupted. Look, I really don't know how to explain it Peeta, so if you could just help me out and nod like you understand it would be kind of helpful."

I guess that's Katniss for you.

…

I'll be the first to admit, I'm extremely ineloquent, but Peeta looked at me as if I just spun the most beautiful and profound story in the world. I just don't get it. I said all these really horrible things to him, and he came and apologized to me first. I acted like a child, and he put up with it.

I will never understand that boy.

He convinced me with his stupidly moving words to come back down to the training center and keep training, I would need all of the time I could get. Haymitch told me that I should steer clear of the bow and arrow, and just focus on survival skills and other forms of combat.

I box with Obadiah for a bit. For someone that has probably at least 60 pounds on me, he is surprisingly soft and easy to beat. I am standing over him, relishing my victory when Atala tells us we can all be done for the day.

I start to walk upstairs, accompanied by a very cross Obadiah, when someone I never expected calls my name.

"Katniss, Katniss! Wait! I have to talk to you about something…alone," She looks pointedly at Obadiah, who scurries off to the elevator, "Come with me."

She drags me into a storage closet and checks the walls, maybe for recording devices or something, I'm not really sure.

"How do you feel about the Capitol, Katniss?"

Johanna Mason.

* * *

**A/N: Could this possible have anything to do with what she said to Peeta several chapters back? **

**Penny for your thoughts?:) Thank you all so much to the people who are reviewing and reading, I love you!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: As always, go check out **_**Dust**_** by ****littlemissowl!**

**Review:**

"**How do you feel about the Capitol, Katniss?"**

* * *

"What do you mean?" I'm so confused right now. Why would _Johanna Mason_ pull me into a closet and ask me about the Capitol…

"God, you are dumb. How. Do. You. Feel. About. The. Capitol," She enunciates each word like I am a two year old still learning to speak.

"Uhh…well…" I'm not really going to spill my guts to Johanna Mason, if that's what she was expecting. She sighs and rolls her eyes, and I try to continue, "I'm not…overly fond of it."

"Thank you, Sherlock,"—She has sarcasm that could rival Haymitch's—"But what would you be willing to do _about_ them?"

"About them?" I'm even more confused now. You can't do anything about the Capitol, their power is omnipotent and obsolete.

"Look, I can't explain now, just…just, play by your own rules, okay? Give them trouble. Make them worried." She is constantly looking over her shoulder, even though we are in a small closet, and as soon as she finishes her sentence, she walks off, not waiting for a reply.

I make my way to the twelfth floor, hoping no one thinks anything of my absence. Johanna wouldn't tell me who I could trust, who I could talk to about this kind of thing, and I have to come up with a convincing lie.

The elevator door opens, and Peeta stands near it, pacing, until he notices me. He envelops me in a hug and runs his fingers through my hair.

"I was worried about you."

"Why?" I was only gone for a few minutes, I don't need an overprotective Peeta getting on my case about it.

"You have a habit of getting into trouble,"—Thanks, Peeta. I never realized that.—" I thought maybe you were going to go beat up the District Two boy. Very not good."

"Very not good," I repeat, glad that he does not think anything of me coming up nearly ten minutes later than Obadiah, who mouths to me that he hasn't told Peeta anything. Good.

I pull out of the hug, and he looks into my eye. Sometimes, I almost get overwhelmed by the _blueness_ of his eyes, it seems like it's to blue to be real.

"So, where were you then?"

Well, this is very not good.

"I was…talking to Johanna," I say, telling him a half-truth, "She wanted to tell me that I should have shot straight at Amon's eye. That he deserved it. Very Johanna Mason-y, actually."

Peeta looks at me skeptically, and I hope against hope that my acting skills, however lacking, are able to convince him I'm telling the truth.

I hate lying to him, but I can't go throwing around information like that to anyone, especially in the hotbed of Capitol security.

"Do you want to go up to the roof?" He asks, "I can get us food and we can have a picnic dinner."

"Sure," I say, smiling genuinely, "I'd like that."

Ten minutes later, we are standing on top of the training center, hand in hand. His hand is big and strong and warm and comforting and I never want to let go of it. I am hit with a sudden realization, and I realize that the Capitol is in fact very stupid.

"Why do they let Tributes come up here?" I ask, "Couldn't they just jump off? It's more appealing than the Games for some…"

Peeta responds without a seconds hesitation, "I thought of that too, last year, you know. When Cinna brought me up here. I asked him the same question, I even phrased it the same," He smiles for a second and continues talking, "But you can't. They have a force field around the building, see."

He reaches his hand out over the edge, and I hear a zapping noise. There are blue lines that look like blood poisoning coming from where Peeta just put his finger. I am overcome by curiosity, and I reach my hand out.

It feels like a much stronger, somewhat painful version of an electric shock. I instantly pull my hand back to my side, and Peeta reaches out to grab it again. He rubs my hand, almost like he's soothing it.

"Peeta?" I ask, my voice timid.

"Yeah?"

"Were you scared? Before your Games, I mean. Like now, but a year ago."

"Terrified," He says simply. I can't even fathom how he's able to say such things, reveal his soft and weaker side so easily, "And sad. Horribly sad. I thought about you a lot, you know? Actually, you were all I thought about last time I came up here. I wondered what you were doing, how you were, how Prim was. I remember wishing you were here with me, just for a second. Just so I could say goodbye."

"And now I'm here with you," I say, cutting him off. I feel kind of uncomfortable during these times, when he professes his love for me. I don't know what to say.

"And we're going to have to say goodbye," His eyes take on a faraway, somewhat glassy look, And I can't take it, I can't.

"No we're not," I say, defiantly.

He looks at me, eyes red-rimmed, and gives me a questioning look. I don't even know myself where I am going with this, but I'm starting to get an idea.

I pull out the letter I wrote for him a while back, and I place it in his palms.

"Don't read it until my cannon goes off."

…

"Don't read it until my cannon goes off."

I don't know what to say. I don't want to think about that, even though I know what's going to happen. I know she has, at best, three weeks. The worst part is, if the Capitol didn't know her, didn't have a specific agenda for her, she would probably win.

But she can't, because of me.

"Don't say that," I say, and I know I must look like a teary-eyed mess, "Just don't, Katniss. I'm going to get you out of there alive if it's the last thing I do, do you hear me?"

She shakes her head, and it's all I can do to stop from screaming. I've been slowly formulating a plan in my head, but it's not crystal clear yet. I also know that she's spoken to Johanna, and I think I know what it's about.

It's too dangerous.

Johanna and whoever she's working with decided that since Katniss is going to die, she might as well make a statement against the Capitol. She told me that the people she's working with want Katniss to play the Games by different rules, do something like I did with the berries, but bigger.

And I know Katniss could do it.

But I also know what the Capitol would do to her family.

"Katniss, what did Johanna tell you? Tell me the truth."

She looks at me doubtfully but after a long pause begins in a tone that is almost a whisper.

"She told me to play by my own rules."

"And are you going to?"

Katniss nods, resolutely.

"Look, just don't do anything stupid, okay? The Capitol…if they can't take it out on you," I drop the one bomb that I know will make her do it, "They'll take it out on Prim."

…

Prim.

They can't. She's in District Twelve. They can't hurt her.

But I know they can.

"Why is it so important to you that I play by the Capitol's rules? I know it's more than just Prim."

Peeta takes a deep breath, like he's calming himself, "Look at what they're doing to you because of me, Katniss. Johanna came to me last year and told me to play by my own rules, and look where that got me. Got _you_. It doesn't work. I would have been blown to bits on the spot, but they needed a Victor. So they took it out on the people I love. You. It's a domino, Katniss. Johanna is just the mouthpiece for the people she's working for, don't you see! They try to rile the Games up every year, they try to get people to rebel against the Capitol! But it. Doesn't. work." Peeta has a crazed look in his eyes, and he's shaking me, like he's trying to get to the point.

Maybe it hasn't worked because they haven't met me.

This is so much bigger than me, or even Prim. One sentence grabbed my whole attention, one word.

_Rebel_.

I think about how I met Bonnie and Twill in the woods, how they ran away from District Eight during a freak explosion. How they had been planning to run away.

The footage. Peeta. District thirteen. I considered it a fairytale, but I could have sworn I saw a hovercraft labeled thirteen for just a second in the woods about a week later. They told me how there was rumor of a rebellion. Rumor that thirteen was alive, well, and going to attack.

I know Peeta will do all he can to keep Prim safe, everything in his power, I hope it is enough.

Because I want to help Johanna bring down the Capitol.

* * *

**A/N: Oooh! Rebellion conversation! I'm planning to bring in 13 more later in the story. :D Katniss is really smart, you have to give her that. She figured out about the rebellion from little clues. Oh Katniss, please don't do anything stupid during your private session with the Gamemakers. xD **


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